


Shine Bright

by Tiger_Gray



Series: Crystalline: A Star Wars Story [3]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Bodhi Rook Lives, Bodhi Rook Needs a Hug, Dark Fairy Tale Elements, Eventual Romance, F/F, Interspecies Awkwardness, M/M, Mutual Pining, Other, POV Bodhi Rook, POV Jessika Pava, Past Abuse, Pining, Post-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Tags May Change, Team as Family, Trauma, Undercover Missions, Women Being Awesome, because stormpilot is Sir Not Appearing in this Film, that's a nice star destroyer it would be a shame if something happened to it, the slowest of slow burns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2019-08-06 08:23:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 34,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16384619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiger_Gray/pseuds/Tiger_Gray
Summary: Shine Bright, or what the characters not involved in TLJ get up to while the movie events are taking place. What starts out as a fairly simple resource-finding mission swiftly becomes a battle with the personification of darkness itself.





	1. Chime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Array: don't worry, we'll heal Finn with the Force!
> 
> Dr. Kalonia: *Jaime Lee Curtis meme*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M POSTING THIS BECAUSE I WILL FUCKING RUIN IT IF I KEEP MESSING WITH IT 
> 
> a huge thank you to everyone for your kudos and comments. I have a stressful mental health related job and I have multiple intersections of oppression. In other words, I'm having a tough time right now, for obvious reasons. But this story and the people who love it are major bright spots, and I really honestly can't express my gratitude enough.

Bodhi sat off to the side as Dr. Kalonia and Array conferred, the muffled beeping of Finn’s medical pod taking him back to a couple of very uncomfortable moments where he’d needed surgery and only some hack in a backwater could provide it. Array had to kill a few people the last time to get him out; they’d wanted his organs more than they’d wanted to help.

“Have you lost your mind?” Dr. Kalonia snapped, folding her arms over her chest. Her severe face and blazing eyes gave some strong clues as to how she’d become the best doctor around if you were a pilot or a solider; Bodhi couldn’t imagine her putting up with a single minute of shit. “I don’t have the proper things needed for successful surgery! That’s why we needed the damn bacta, you realize, the bacta you _used.”_

Array stayed placid, his spines slicking back in contrition. Or at least, a show of contrition. He held himself hunched over, trying to make himself as small as possible; he would have loomed over Dr. Kalonia at his full height. He looked quite out of place in the all white room, his tail in stark contrast to the scrubbed tile floor, his greenish hide entirely the wrong color for the hospital-white environment. Maybe Dr. Kalonia was letting Array have it because she thought of Array as little more than a talking dog; it wouldn’t be the first time. 

“I understand, doctor. But — “

“I don’t even have an anesthesiologist!” She continued, making a decisive gesture with her careworn hands. “How do you propose I keep Finn alive in the first place? The medical pod isn’t even set up for that, and that’s about the most advanced piece of equipment I have.”

“I can do it.” Array said, spines lifting hopefully. He unbent a little too, though Bodhi could see him trying to rein in his enthusiasm lest he alienate the good doctor further. 

“You are bloody barking mad,” she told him flatly. 

“Well, uh,” Array said, rubbing sheepishly at his neck. “Probably. But what does that have to do with healing Finn?” 

Just as Dr. Kalonia was about to lay into Array again, Jess neatly slid in between them. As if she’d materialized out of nothing at all, she just…appeared in a second when he wasn’t looking. 

“Well hey there, Harter. Don’t you look nice today. Now see my buddy Array here can heal just about anything, but not without your help. He’s not a doctor, right Array?”

He shook his head in eager agreement from over Jess’ shoulder, like he really was an animal doing a trick. Bodhi had to put his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing and winding up Dr. Kalonia even more, but he kept his gaze glued to the uh…negotiations. He’d interfere if he had to. 

“See?” Jess said. If Dr. Kalonia’s icy stare affected her, she didn’t show it. “So he needs you to tell him, uh. You know. What all the different bits that are in your spine are. Er, like, nerves and stuff.” 

Dr. Kalonia fixed Jess with a withering stare to end all lesser imitations but Jess just put her hands up and said, “hey they pay me to fly and blow shit up. Oh, and to look good doing it. I get bonus pay for that.” 

“Dr. Kalonia,” Bodhi said, though he still had to summon up a lot of courage before he could directly address someone he thought of as an authority figure, “what choice do we have? We can’t leave Finn in there forever.” 

“All right, all right,” she conceded, the reality of the situation apparently winning out over the natural protectiveness a doctor had for her patients. Or that good doctors had, anyway. “Array, let’s run some sims before we get started. I’ve never worked with a Force user before.” 

* * *

 

 

Array had absorbed every second of the sims he and Dr. Kalonia - Harter - had attempted. They’d gotten through the hard parts, correcting any catastrophic errors before they tried it on a living, breathing person.

_Especially considering that person is Finn._

He hated to think of something going wrong, keeping Finn locked in a coma or failing at surgery so badly that Finn died, snuffed out before he could learn what they’d come to tell him. 

Harter walked beside him; they’d both modulated their gait to keep up, more or less, with the other. She went over all the major structures of the spine with him again, and he dutifully memorized them all. If anything could be said for him, it was that he had an eidetic ability to recall even the smallest of details. Most of the time. 

Luckily so, too, as Harter explained all the different nerves involved. The lightsaber strike had hit Finn like a zipper opening, severing and cauterizing a number of thoracic nerve pairs. He’d lost the ability to breathe on his own; it was a miracle he’d survived so long without medical care as he lay there in the snow. Though Array had seen the infant galaxy of light at the center of Finn’s being and privately suspected the Force might have had a little something to do with that.

It turned out this healing would be even more complex than he’d imagined. He would have to not only restore the structure of the spine, but re-wire it, and even generate what had been pulverized by the blade. The closer he and Harter got to the infirmary, the more nervy he felt. He wished Zawati had any relevant healing powers; he would have welcomed the help.

_Think of all the stars in all the skies, Mother Odgerel said. Think of the many universes. When you breathe in, breathe in light._

He could feel himself center and ground at the memory, the way he’d been taught: made to do those drills over and over as a child. He’d often found that oppressive as a young padawan, though he now felt at the very least grateful for the skill at a time like this. Mother Odgerel had helped immeasurably; she’d done away with his bitterness as effortlessly as leaves dancing on a zephyr, refined and deepened what he already knew. 

By the time he and Harter walked in to the infirmary, the nurses and orderlies (of which there were precious few) had nonetheless managed to cobble together a functional operating room. Finn lay in the pod still, though, since they couldn’t keep him breathing otherwise. Not until the Force did it for him. 

A bothan with beautiful flaxen fur came over to him. She had a nurse’s uniform on, one that looked worse for the wear despite her obvious efforts to keep it stain free and starched. He imagined the Resistance had to make do with whatever they’d already had, or what they’d managed to loot whilst jumping willy nilly through deep space. 

“Array,” she said, keeping her head ducked low. Curious. Bothans had a well deserved reputation for being smug, self-aggrandizing assholes, but this one seemed the exact opposite. He felt an unexpected pang; he could relate. “Welcome. I am Athos, one of Dr. Kalonia’s nurses. We were discussing it, and we think it might make the most sense to set you up with some of the things you’ll need to do something that costs this much energy.”

“What do you have in mind?” Another important lesson: don’t assume you know how to do everything, and concede to experts. 

“At the very least we should give you some fluids and painkillers,” she said, apparently convinced he wasn’t about to bite her head off since she looked up for the first time. She had huge pansy eyes, in soft purple. “ And we’ll set up a bed for you since it sounds like you’re going to collapse right after. Admittedly I don’t know a lot about Vor physiology, but since you’re a humanoid from an oxygen based planet, I think we can make educated guesses without doing you any permanent harm if we get it wrong.” 

_Good enough. I’ve done things with far worse odds._

Array caught Bodhi’s eye from across the room. Bodhi nodded, so Array turned to the nurse and agreed. Might as well begin. Stalling would get them nowhere. 

He walked over to Finn’s pod so he could start making Finn’s lungs pulse and compress. For a moment he paused, studying Finn’s face again. He heard Poe’s voice then:

_Finn’s just…Finn is just good._

It was a precious face, Array decided. He could understand so much then, just looking at this stormtrooper who had fled, who had rejected becoming an emotionless killer. Who, even in moments of fear and cowardice, turned around and faced that which frightened him the most. No wonder Poe felt so taken with him. 

He came to sit next to the bed they’d made up, the nurses settling Finn on it such that Harter could get to his spine with her instruments. Harter looked as solid as the roots of an oak tree after hundreds of years of growth. Her expression had gone grave; she wanted the best outcome for Finn, too, and it was clear she didn’t fully believe in the type of healing they were going to do together. Yet she too was willing to face an unfamiliar thing and give her best. 

When Athos came to put the IV in the back of his hand he’d already drifted away from the mundane scene and its details. First, the sound of marching boots -the standard issue kind for X-Wing pilots - from outside this little oasis of healing faded away. Then, the clank and crash of engine parts as mechanics worked feverishly to restore hampered ships; a First Order attack could come at any time. The sensation of the bed’s edge biting into his scales, the _shh-shh_ of the artificial ship’s air whispering over the wind-sensors behind his eyes. 

He could hear Harter still, the tiny little whirs and chirps from the instruments, her measured breathing. Her healing was as involved as his, and she too had her own type of trance to enter. 

He reached for her through the Force. The bond would be necessary if they were to work together on such a daunting task. She shied from the contact like a spooked fathier at first. Array could easily read that she’d never had to do anything like this, and had precious little Force talent herself. But soon enough she turned to face it and accepted the bond like two warriors clasping hands. 

_It’s time._

Like walking into a depthless ocean, Array immersed himself in the Grey Force. All felt possible then, thousands of potential paths laid out before him. An utter and all-encompassing stillness came over him, and he dimly felt his earthly form tense and freeze in place. His body had become his conduit, a way he could refine and use the magic now closing over his head and drawing him into the deepest places the mortal mind could comprehend. 

_Finn. Focus on Finn._

His training came effortlessly to him. After so many years and so many teachers, he could breathe in this endless sea as long as needed. He might be a fire sage, but healing like this demanded the special properties of water. He thought of the blue-green sea on Yavin 4, the one that often kissed the shore behind Poe’s eyes whenever the pilot’s mind wandered. 

He took the Force, drew it onto his fingers like a painter’s palette, so vivid and varied that he knew anything he managed to craft from it would be beautiful. It danced and morphed as he worked, a sea, an artist’s charcoal, a song sighing through the Cathedral of Winds. He let his thoughts turn to the injury he and Harter had come to heal, a discordant note in the composition that was Finn’s body and being. It jangled in his ear, making him wince at the cacophony. 

He found the first nerve as Harter murmured directions, only his eyes moving as he touched that first connection. The Force leapt to it like a live wire, and he tamed and spun out that power until it overlaid the nerve that would need to be re-wound properly into Finn’s sliced apart spinal column. Harter gave him the signal, and he set it back in place and willed it to be as strong as it had once been, before an overabundance of Darkness had tried to take it away. 

As it did as commanded and healed in place a chime echoed in Array’s chest, or the way bass notes could pound into one’s body during a concert or during a traditional drumming session. It felt like properly ordering the library at the old Temple, which one could only do if one was strong in the Force. 

Harter squeezed his free hand, her knowledge open before him like a priceless tome. Through that he knew what to look and listen for and he went diving for the next nerve, the next color in the rainbow that made up Finn’s essence. He could read Finn’s life story like a sheaf of sheet music, an aria of freedom rising above requiems dedicated to the loss of identity, family, and love. The regimented marches thudded against Array’s heart, tattooing his ventricles with all the training and the attendant scolding and abuse that had made up Finn’s adulthood.

He couldn’t allow himself to get lost in all of that; he wanted desperately to know more about this man the Force had shown him back at his and Bodhi’s home on their hidden planet. He’d known Poe and his friends would arrive sooner rather than later, though he hadn’t grasped anything specific about them until they had wandered into his and Bodhi’s garden. It was all to bring them to Finn. 

The second nerve shimmered into being. It blazed across his vision, a shade of orange that defied any kind of classification. He could faintly hear Harter manipulating the instruments stuck into Finn’s back, and he gave himself fully to supporting her and her actions. At her direction, he aided those machines in placing the nerve, raw at one end, back into place. 

He made his body breathe out, releasing as much tension as he could. The IV stung enough that he realized it existed, but he knew even with those types of precautions he would find himself taxed to the limit after this. He bade Finn’s lungs to work, his heart to beat. Everything an anesthesiologist would do, he did instead with the Force. And he acted as another surgeon in his own right, all at once. 

Finn’s spine finally swam into view as a complete picture, and then he could see how everything was meant to fit. As he went he eased the ragged quality around Finn’s vertebrae, dissolved the free floating bone shards, and unknotted the muscles in Finn’s back that had cramped around the injury in an effort to protect it. He swept away the Dark clinging to Finn like the fluff from a dogwood tree clings to a roof, coating it in white; in this case, it coated everything it touched in misery. With but a thought, he banished it. 

He breathed in slowly, and felt Bodhi’s hand on his shoulder. That came through as more real than anything else in the world around him, a touch that reached deep even through the Force emanating from him and through him.  It gave him a direct hit of energy, and thanks to that he and Harter added two more strands to the cord they were trying to re-weave, glittering pink next to blue-black glimmer. 

A song slipped from his lips as he worked, more a murmured lullaby than anything more grand. He knew it had an effect, though. He could see it in Finn’s body, relaxing all the more. The nurses moved around like featureless black shapes, though he could smell the antiseptic and hear the pop of syringe caps coming off. He shuddered as fluid came through his IV, chilling him to the point where for a moment he felt dangerously sluggish. 

“Careful, careful,” he heard Harter snap, he guessed at Athos, and the cold feeling went away. He reached in to Finn and held everything in place for Dr. Kalonia to do the next phase of her work, this type of cauterizing intended to help instead of hurt. She had a fine and sure touch, wielding her tools with all the steely patience of a sniper in firing position. 

Normally, this surgery would have taken at least two separate sessions, a variety of pins, rods, and screws, and a full team of medical procedures and personnel. But because of his Force mastery, they could circumvent much of those concerns. That said, it was terribly taxing to hold Finn’s spine together with little more than willpower and focus, and Array fought to stay conscious. But, he would never allow harm to come to Finn, and he pushed through the fatigue while Harter went about her business. 

Memories swum up from the depths as a side effect of his total immersion, his, Finn’s, Bodhi’s, since Bodhi was touching him. They weren’t so occupied that their minds were blank of everything else, the way Harter’s was. He tried not to glimpse more than they would have consented to him seeing, but he couldn’t filter that and keep Finn together at the same time. 

_If your fellow ‘trooper falls, you leave him in the dirt. We do not help those who can’t be bothered to help themselves._

_Even then, Finn had felt unease. He barely had a name for it; the First Order had ways of keeping the feelings of Stormtroopers neatly folded up and locked away where their rightful owners couldn’t touch them. Maybe in retrospect Phasma — Array understood her to be the one who had spoken — should have seen then that Finn would be a problem in the future: he never did leave his fellows in the dirt._

Harter gave the signal, and with a twitch of his claw the Force fused Finn’s spine, the job hardware and a long heal time would have had to do without him. 

_Bodhi stumbled out of the TIE simulator, knowing before his foot even hit the floor that he’d failed. The people monitoring did him the unlikely courtesy of pretending not to see him, and he made his way blindly into the hall beyond. He sunk to the floor and tugged his flight goggles off of his head, rubbing his eyes with his free hand._

_“Just come from the TIE simulator, have you?”_

_Bodhi looked up, surprised to hear a true Imperial accent. Of course everyone who worked for the Empire took on a certain cadence, but only lifers had such perfect tones. All Array could perceive before the memory ended was the impression of a grey uniform, and the badge of bars and circles that indicated a science officer._

_“I…” This past vision of Bodhi stammered, the tone almost knocking Array out of his trance entirely._

“Ease up, Array,” Harter snapped, and he obeyed before he undid their hard work with a too-tight Force hold. He shook his head, growled, reset himself. He picked up the through line of what they were doing again, that discordant note that represented Finn’s injury still there but fading quickly. 

“There,” Harter said, watching the screen above the surgical table that showed her exactly where her instruments were. He could see that, barely, through one filmy eye. “Can you sense it? Thread it through the vertebrae…”

He grasped the nerve with the Force. Rarely had he done anything this intricate and drawn out, and he could feel utter exhaustion picking at his bones. He pushed it aside the way he had done to many things when he’d been a slave all those many years, simply ignoring what couldn’t be acted on. Instead he dove into the healing matrix again, feeling more than seeing when Harter’s instruments identified the nerve in question. He set the nerve in place, then moved down the transverse process to the squashed disc below the spot where the lightsaber wound had been. 

He closed his eyes and let the Force drown him once again, sinking so far he could no longer perceive anything about the natural world. Through the waves he stood submerged beneath, he felt the vertebrae and that herniated, half crushed pad between them. He disassembled it, holding hundreds of little pieces that would paralyze Finn forever if he forgot even one of them. Painstakingly, he restored the bones, then the disc, then the pad. He interlocked them as they should have been, supporting and stabilizing the rest of Finn’s spine. 

“That’s it, that’s everything,” was all he heard before he passed out cold. 

* * *

 

Luckily they’d been ready for Array to collapse, and Bodhi only had to shore Array up for a moment; he wasn’t big enough or strong enough to do more than that. The helpers were able to lay Array down on the hospital gurney he’d been sitting on while healing, and a jolt of panic went through Bodhi as he watched; Array didn’t look like he was breathing. He tried to shake off the anxiety; it wasn’t the first time he’d seen Array in a Force trance, but stars it was bloody eerie every time.

“Put Finn back in his pod,” Harter said to her team, “we’ll hook him up again and circulate some antibiotic fluids.” 

They were lucky enough to have repulsor mats that could go short distances, so that Finn’s newly put together back wouldn’t come apart again on the trip. Bodhi watched every second as they nestled Finn in the pod, hoping to the Force that nothing would go wrong at this final moment. Finn had to make it. Had to. 

Satisfied, he turned to Array again. He couldn’t help but reach in and look for Array’s pulse, usually easily found but far too elusive for his nerves this time. He slipped his fingers over the line of Array’s jaw, then under it. He could feel that pulse, barely, in the soft place near the pockets in Array’s throat that pulsed when Array purred. It improved his mood though Array, normally nigh-hot to the touch, still felt too cold for comfort. 

“Put him in the medical ship,” he heard Dr. Kalonia say, but faintly; he felt dazed, as if he’d had something to do with the healing himself. Of course when he thought on it, he had. He’d given his energy to Array and it had almost completely wiped him out. He could only imagine what it must be like to do what Array or Dr. Kalonia had just done.  “Pava, you’re guard so get your X-Wing up and running.” 

Harter didn’t truly have authority over Jess, but Jess didn’t protest either. She stood up from the seat she’d taken when Bodhi had left it, jammed her flight helm on, and jogged out towards the tarmac where her X-Wing waited. The fact that their guard had turned out to be Jess eased Bodhi’s hammering heart. 

By the time the orderlies had wheeled them through the airlock and into the medical ship nestled against the belly of the Resistance capitol vessel, he’d crumpled over Array and was almost completely asleep himself. He couldn’t help but feel a distant anxiety; these people were strangers, and he and Array had been through so much that had gone sour he was naturally as alert as he could be at a time like this. 

Especially with Array out; he could all too easily remember what it had been like to see Array that first time so many years ago now with a Force dampening collar clamped tight around his neck, being made to sing in a cramped cage with a cattle prod waiting if he tried to defy orders. Things could all too easily go back to that, if Bodhi didn’t pay attention and stay two steps ahead. 

He took Array’s hand while waiting for the orderlies to find them a place to rest. Those cheap, featureless iron rings were there, the first things Array had ever bought for himself as a free being. It calmed him, even though Array was totally non-responsive to the point where his tongue was lolling out of his nerveless mouth. If those rings were there, this was reality, and Array was alive. He rubbed the pad of his finger over the ring on Array’s index finger, trying to remind himself that everything had gone right, that Finn had been healed, and soon they could finally talk to Finn face to face. 

He’d just worked himself around to a certain state of calm when the warning sirens started. 


	2. Jump

Athos came pelting in just as Bodhi lifted his head, startling him so badly he leapt to his feet and went for a blaster he didn’t have. She barreled past him with goat-like stubbornness, batting at his hands.

“You’ve got to strap him down,” she snapped, tugging the restraints out from under the gurney mattress. “Get the wheels.” 

It took him longer than it should have to understand, but once he did he knelt down, unwound the straps he needed, and clipped them to the tie points in the floor. Thank the stars they were on a medical ship, with all the necessary things to keep people as safe and healthy as possible. 

When he stood up, Athos had already handled the business of securing Array in place. Though Bodhi knew it was to help his friend, his heart still jumped into his throat seeing Array like that; if the situation had come to the point where restraints were needed, things had or were about to go horribly wrong. Not to mention Array hadn’t so much as twitched. He tried to push away the reminder of that dirty tavern slaver’s paradise where they’d met, Array in chains. 

Athos herded him into the corridor and as if she had read his mind, the next time his hand twitched she took a backup blaster from the sash at her waist and pressed it into his grip. 

“What the hell is happening?” He snapped in a voice too tightly wound, poised on his toes as if he might need to flee and hide at any moment. The ship was in chaos and for one terrifying moment he found himself standing on Jedha sand, watching the horizon turn into a cloud of death. 

Athos all but slapped him, but settled for shaking him instead. 

“Take this,” she said when she had his attention, jamming a communicator into his free hand. 

_Bodhi? Bodhi, where are you? Bodhi!_

He blinked, and Cassian’s voice slipped into and took on the shape of Jess’ sharp tones instead. 

“Bodhi!” The communicator crackled. “Glad you’re still breathing.”

“What’s happening?” He all but shouted, fingers trembling around the communicator, his other hand stiff on the butt of his borrowed blaster. Exhaustion dragged at his bones, while anxiety jumped and arched along his nerves. The combination could be hellish, and had kept him from resting on more than one occasion. Now, rest felt as impossible as taking a leisurely swim through the cold vacuum of space just outside, the cold vacuum of space that felt menacingly close of a sudden. 

“The bombing run is a shit show.” Jess told him in a tense tone. “We have to jump out of here.”

He wanted to ask a thousand questions, _what bombing run?_ being chief amongst them. He and Array had been too taken up with the task of healing Finn to bother with much else, let alone military plans they had no business meddling in. 

“We can’t! Not without Finn and Poe.”

“Finn is up and moving and Poe is already in his bird. We have to go and _now._ Get to the gunner’s station and blow up some TIEs while I cover for us.” As if to underscore Jess’ words, a muffled explosion hit their starboard side, and the whole ship rocked as if they were a dhow on the tip of a treacherous wave. The fact that the blasted First Order had crawled right up their collective asses finally hit home and he raced down the blinding-white corridor, barely avoiding personnel of all kinds passing him in flashes of color. The lights stabbed into his brain and the clanging klaxons did little for his nerves. 

He’d stolen enough ships in his time on the run that he could make an educated guess as to where the gunner’s station was, and when he got there he practically threw himself into the seat. He fumbled for his safety belt and managed to click it into place just as the world tilted sharply, a direct hit that would have knocked him right out of his position a moment earlier. 

He forced himself to focus, to look first at the HUD in front of him in linear red and then out the viewscreen at the chaos of a full on space battle. He had no idea what plans had been made while he’d enjoyed a few moments of fitful rest, but he could see that the Resistance fleet had taken a pummeling. TIE fighters shot through the sky towards the Resistance flag ship, a flock of bloodthirsty ravens harrying a hawk. 

His sight had limits considering they were stuck to the belly of the flagship like a barnacle but it was enough; the sight of a First Order Destroyer made his mouth go dry with terror. He reached for the gunner’s controls and his clammy palms slipped free, making him swear and wipe them on his trousers before trying again. This time his grip held, but he couldn’t make his fingers move. He could hear his own breath, a desperate, tight whistle in his chest. His vision narrowed, then started to whirl closed. 

_Not now, dammit! Not now!_

“Bodhi! Get this GODAMNDED SHITBIRD OFF MY TAIL _NOW!”_

Jess’ roar shook him out of the anxiety spiral and before he knew what he was doing he’d locked on and blown the fighter out of the sky. Adrenaline pierced him and he shouted in surprise and something between horror and elation as Jess’ X-Wing dipped and rolled to avoid the flaming wreckage. 

“Nice shot,” a third voice on the communicator told him. 

“Zawati? Are you flying this thing?”

“Well yes.” She said primly. “The pilot wasn’t aboard when everything went to hell — “

A shape blacker than black rocketed across Bodhi’s viewscreen and the shock it registered made him miss whatever else Zawati had to say.

_Kylo Ren’s fighter._

A TIE Silencer; he recognized it immediately. Its ion engines cut through the sky like knife blades made of knapped obsidian, the pilot’s compartment a baleful eye. _And_ its guard: two TIE Superiority class ships screaming along beside. 

So unlike Array or even Zawati’s presence, Kylo Ren raged in the Force like a snow leopard in a durasteel-jaw trap, mouth foaming with spittle, blood gushing and maw open in a permanent howl. A once beautiful pelt made filthy with gore and smoke, claws blackened, some sharp, others broken as if he’d become so mad with pain and power that he’d lashed out again and again at something wholly unyielding and uncaring. 

To say it terrified Bodhi would have been like calling a mass murder a minor incident; it utterly and completely undid every single one of his nerves. In the space of two breaths, he _felt_ the weight of his next decision: panic felt familiar, so comforting even as it destroyed, like a lover he’d unwittingly embraced only to have them tear out his throat. An alarmingly large part of him wanted to do what he usually did: tumble into that embrace and accept the agony because it was an agony he knew and understood. 

He stared into the HUD, its baleful red lines twirling and rotating as if the entire universe had slowed down to a crawl. He felt his hand move like trying to push through that disgusting goo the locals harvested on Settha 5, the kind you could cut into blocks without losing a millimeter of definition. 

_What’s the other choice? One I could make._

The shock of his fist slamming against the control panel rocketed him back into real time and he watched the missiles scream towards Ren’s fighter, open-mouthed with shock, as if someone else had sent them. 

_If I’m brave enough._

* * *

“Holy fuck, Zizi!” Jess shouted. “Did you _see_ that?” The missiles took out the TIE fighter on Ren’s starboard side and clipped Ren’s fighter. Not enough to take it out, but it had been a ballsy attack. She could hardly believe Bodhi had been the one behind it. 

_Bet that pissed Kylo off but good._

“I see it, my darling. We should away.” 

Jess agreed. The utter chaos just outside made that more than obvious, a mess of exploding ships and ordinance. A moment later the flagship jumped and so did she, along with the remaining X-Wings. They’d taken out the dreadnaught though at the expense of most of the Resistance fleet. At least they could go home now. 

Just after the jump, an alarm went off on her board. She studied the communications from the flagship and her elation drained away like heart’s blood from a stab wound; somehow, someway, the First Order had jumped with them. She twisted in her seat. taking in the group of enemy vessels close behind. 

_Oh my gods, they know where we’re going. How in is that possible?_

“Jess!” This time, the voice belonged to Poe. “Get the hell out of here! Take the medical ship and go!”

“What?” She barked, clutching her headset as if it were malfunctioning. “What in the kriff are you talking about?” 

“I don’t know how they’re doing it, but Hux has our tail and we can’t shake him. It has to be a bug or something some kind of locator. Most likely it will be on the flagship, but you and the medical ship might be clean. Go now!”

“I don’t like this, Poe!” She practically shrieked, barely avoided an X-Wing bursting apart next to her, the debris scoring a hit on her port foil. 

“I know,” he said, sounding as somber as he ever had. “Go. It’s an order.” 

She swallowed back tears and changed frequencies. 

“Zizi, let’s get out of here.”

“Where to?” 

“I have an idea,” Bodhi said in that diffident tone of his. “But you aren’t going to like it.”

* * *

“ _Belsavis?_ Have you lost your fucking _mind?”_

Bodhi winced. He couldn’t blame Jess, really. A planet best known for housing criminals so dangerous they had to be kept in stasis didn’t sound like a great solution, true, but Bodhi knew its hiding places and had faith they could keep themselves tucked away somewhere safe. Mostly. 

“We have to go,” Zawati shouted, the only time Bodhi had ever heard her ruffled by anything. 

“What choice do we have? The ship can’t take any more direct hits.” Bodhi added.

“Kriffing fucking — fine! What are the coordinates?”

The second Zawati and Jess had them, they jumped. The hyperspace corridor opened up and the ships barreled down its open throat, countless worlds and systems rushing past as little more than pinpricks of light. Bodhi shut his eyes against the nausea it inevitably brought with it, his stomach flipped around on itself. He shook the queasiness off in time to see the white surface of Belsavis fill his vision. 

“Here,” he said, giving them more precise directions to one of the few equatorial hot zones that could sustain life without specialized gear and housing. He sucked in a breath and held it as Zawati landed hard, the ship bumping and skidding a few hundred feet and leaving a wet furrow in the fertile soil. A lush savannah lay out before them, purple and red as the triptych of pale yellow moons climbed overhead, heralding the rising night. 

Jess put her X-Wing down next to a thick copse of trees, camouflaging it somewhat and making it tough to pick up on a scanner unless said scanner had the latest upgrades. The fact that they’d made it and were safe made him flop over the gunner’s controls, boneless with relief. 

He only let himself indulge in such a thing for a moment’s time; there was too much to do. He got up and paused in the corridor. Something wasn’t quite right. He kept going, each step a hesitant one. Finally he realized: it was so _empty and quiet._

When he came into the nexus of the ship he found Athos standing there, hands clamped on the main HUD, staring into it as if she could force it all to make sense through sheer will. Her fur sat disheveled on her bent neck, and her hooves scraped against the metal floor. 

“Athos?” He tried. She looked up, a look of wild fear and trepidation in her huge lavender eyes. 

“Bodhi…”

It clicked. 

“It’s just us, isn’t it?”

She nodded, speechless as if the weight of the situation had fractured her larynx. 

“You, me, Jess, Zawati, and Array.” She confirmed. “Everyone else must have been on the flagship when we broke away.” 

Jess came in before he could reply, tugging her flight helmet off and letting her hair, damp with sweat, cascade down her back. Zawati followed a moment later, the only one of them that looked at all composed albeit she had lines of tension etched into the sides of her nose and across her forehead. 

“In that case,” Zawati said, looking at each of them in turn, “we dig in, find basic supplies, and decide what to do next.” 

The claw clutched tight around Bodhi’s poor overworked heart eased; thank the stars someone was willing to take charge. 

“I know there are people here who live in these regions,” he added. “Array and I have been here before, though not for long.” 

“They might be worth contacting,” Athos said, drumming her fingers on the edge of the HUD. “Bodhi?”

“I can do it,” he offered.

“I’ll forage,” Zawati said. and when Bodhi studied her face he understood part of her tension. 

“We left Mathilde behind, didn’t we?” He said softly. Zawati’s mouth turned in a deep frown, and she blinked her suspiciously bright eyes. 

“We did. I will simply have to pray that she stays safe and we are reunited one day.” 

“I’ll go with you, Zizi,” Jess said in a similar quiet tone, taking Zawati’s hand. 

“I’ll stay here,” Athos added, “and try to wake Array. We’ll need him.” 

“We will,” Bodhi said.

_I will._

 


	3. Ultraviolet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jess, Bodhi, Array, and Zawati explore their surroundings and try to make camp. But it's the Force that feels the most strange, taking more than it gives.

“Where are we?” Array mumbled, his head pillowed on his forearms as if he were a large and rather intimidating cat, complete with lashing tail. Bodhi thought of his boyhood fantasy about charming one of the fierce sandcats that called the desert home, a terrifying predator acting like a pet.

“Belsavis,” he said, coming over to sit on the edge of Array’s bed. They’d piled every blanket they could find on poor cold Array, who still felt human-like to the touch; not warm enough by far. When healthy, touching him could push back even the most frigid winter’s day, he ran so hot. Bodhi stroked Array’s head, drawing a pleased purr out of his friend. “You’re too cold.” 

“I know,” Array said, his voice sounding thick as if he were drunk. “No wonder, if we’re on Belsavis.”

“It had to be done, but part of me wishes you hadn’t healed Finn,” Bodhi groused. Of course he would never begrudge Finn of all people his good health, but seeing Array so drained and diminished made his heart hurt, to say nothing of the anxiety it brought.

“Come on,” Array said, pausing as he often did as though he were leaving something unsaid. “You don’t mean that. No one else could have. And it’s Finn we’re talking about.” 

“You’re right.” Bodhi sighed, knowing he’d lost the argument but not feeling charitable enough to be personable. “Do you think Chirrut and Baze know we found him? That they’re watching us…watching over us?”

He wouldn’t have said such a silly thing to anyone else, but Array never judged. 

“Oh yes,” Array said, and this time he didn’t hesitate at all. “Of course. They’re one with the Force, and the Force is all around us and in everything. I have to believe they’re happy and safe. I’ve always thought it was Chirrut who reached out to me and told me…I doubt he would have stopped involving himself, if he had a choice.” 

Even Array, for all his Jedi power, could not truly say what waited after death. 

“I just wish they could tell us everything about him,” Bodhi said, leaning against Array’s side in the hopes he could offer his body heat if nothing else. “There are so many holes in the story, I don’t know what to make of it. The ages, for one thing.” 

It was a well-worn discussion they’d had over and over, but Array humored him the way Array usually did when he was going in circles for the hundredth time about something. Never in his life had Bodhi met such a patient being as Array was. Well, until something tripped his switch and got him good and pissed off. 

“It is Finn’s journey,” Array said, stifling a yawn. “Those answers are for him to find. But we can start him on the path.” 

“He’s Force sensitive too, isn’t he?” Bodhi asked, gently un-crimping the knots in Array’s neck until Array was purring away like a house cat in a summer sunbeam. 

“Yes,” Array said, his spines completely relaxed and his big eyes half closed in contentment. “Oh yes, definitely. I heard he wielded Kylo Ren’s lightsaber. You don’t need Force training to use a ‘saber on a basic level, but anything more requires the kind of situational awareness the Force bestows on the master. And besides, I can see it inside him, like he has a galaxy in his chest.” 

“Is that what my Force sensitivity looks like?” Bodhi wanted to know, wriggling under all those blankets and draping himself over Array as they talked. Being that physically close was a habit they’d fallen into alone on their hidden planet; he had a faint sense that it might seem odd to the humans in their midst, but he wasn’t willing to give up such a source of comfort in the name of keeping up appearances. 

Having left their home still stung, and he still wasn’t willing to let it go. 

“Hm. Yours is like a net, or cords criss-crossing all over your body. It’s pale gold, like desert sand and it shimmers when you move. When you are thinking about it or reaching out to it, it turns black.”

He’d known that he was Force sensitive before now — privately, he thought being around Array all the time had unlocked it — but he’d never thought to ask what it looked like. 

“Black? That makes it sound like the Dark Side.”

Array snorted in derision. 

“Think about the good side of darkness. When you’re comfortable in bed and nothing is bothering you, in the darkness. When you move around a home you know without having to think, the darkness is a friend, not a foe. I’ve seen you do it, in our house.” He paused and for a moment Bodhi thought he wouldn’t continue. “You could never fall to the Dark Side.” 

Bodhi chuckled, resting his cheek against Array’s as he thought of the kind gloom that had characterized his childhood home at night, the black outline of the Temple of the Whills against the horizon, the black of a panther crossing the dunes during a rare rainstorm. 

“Thank you for your faith in me.” 

Array’s clever prehensile tail wrapped around his leg and squeezed affectionately. The contented purring eventually lulled him into a doze, Array’s deep breathing and relative warmth soothing him to the point where he could rest. At least it seemed that Array would be all right, though nowhere near his normal capabilities for the moment. 

Some indeterminate amount of time later, Jess roused him.

“Hey,” she said, voice pitched low so she wouldn’t wake Array, probably. “Hey, Bodhi.” 

“Huh?” He muttered, lifting his head even though it felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. Jess was stood there, combing out her bedhead with her fingers. She had on a set of winter gear, lined with dingy white fur. 

“Sorry to take you away from your mate,” she whispered, “but we have to get ourselves better hidden if we want to survive here and I need your help. Zizi is still too wiped out to do it all with the Force.” 

“What? He’s not my mate,” he blurted belatedly, wincing right afterwards at how stupid he sounded. He levered himself up, biting back a groan of pain and exhaustion. “What do you need?” 

Jess gave him a blank look. The meaning was clear; _could have fooled me._ He chose to ignore it. He left Array sleeping and stood, grabbing the coat Jess tossed at him and shrugging into its fur-lined warmth. At least they’d had some cold weather gear stashed away. He supposed the savannah he'd seen when landing was further away than it had first seemed.

“We should hide the ship better, first of all,” Jess pointed out, wriggling her hands into her gloves. Even in the temperate areas, things were chilly enough to warrant their use. But full gear? They weren’t in the right spot, that had to be it. Whether it was Zawati’s unskilled piloting, him misremembering the coordinates, or a lack of fuel he couldn’t yet say. 

He followed Jess without a word, wending through the ship’s hallways until they came to the main hatch, where Bodhi wasn’t at all surprised to find Zawati waiting. Like him and Array, Jess and Zawati were glued together at the hip. 

He studied her in her close-fitting dress; she looked thin, a faint tremor running through her as she stood there with her hand on the grip near the exit controls. 

“Zawati?” He ventured, pitching his voice low and quiet the way Jess had when coming to wake him. She turned to him, her expression all troubled creases and sharp pinches. “What is it?”

“Something about this planet is wrong,” she said, and he wondered then if the way she was shivering had to do with something other than the cold. Whatever it could be, she felt it in ways he, a largely untrained sensitive of limited power, could not. 

“It’s a prison planet, Zizi,’ Jess said, taking Zawati’s free hand in both of hers. She turned tender for Zawati in an instant, a person with infinite patience trying to coax a spooked animal. “Guess there’s plenty of bad vibes stored up here.”

“I can sense that,” Zawati confirmed while Bodhi hung back, watching the two of them interact. They were a study in the unspoken, a thousand gestures between them of affection and support. It was like watching an elaborate silent play where each tiny movement had a thousand meanings. Gods, the Force must still be clinging to him if he could see all that, he thought as he stood there trying not to leave his jaw on the floor like a fool. “But it’s…it’s only partly that. Yet it’s like the Force here is so different…When I call upon it, it slips from my grasp and takes more than it gives.”

“Well, we’ll keep our eyes peeled,” Jess reassured her. “Uh. Physically and metaphorically.” 

Zawati put on her cloak, and the three of them went out. They’d shot off course, it turned out, confirming Bodhi’s worries. He could tell as soon as he saw the horizon, but he supposed it wasn’t so bad. They could at least exist here without freezing to death. He trudged through the ground frost, a sharp, homesick thorn corkscrewing into his heart. Home. Jedha. Always so bitter, but he thought of how as a child he’d lain safe in his home by the fire, lucky enough to regard the frozen dunes from behind a pane of insulated glass. 

It made him determined to create some kind of hearth out here, something they could rally around. But first, he spent gods knew how long digging half-buried fronds out of the snow, building them up around the ship’s engines and wings. Zawati and Jess worked alongside, venturing ahead now and again into the jungle to get what they could. Zawati used the Force as she was able, but even he who hadn’t known her long knew she was operating far below her usual capacity. 

He walked into the woods, trying to find some more useful things and trying to outrun his constant ruminating. They’d managed to hit the edge of an equatorial zone, so at least they wouldn’t die in the unforgiving wastelands around the prison. But it wasn’t ideal, and his heart went very small and quiet when he realized it might mean they couldn’t contact help. They couldn’t radio the Resistance - too much risk that the First Order would realize they’d scarpered - and the people who lived here lived much closer to the heat and life he’d been aiming for when they’d jumped the medical ship in the middle of the battle. Besides which, the natives were nomadic and didn’t rely on tech. He couldn’t just send a neat little message explaining what had happened. 

Jess caught him peering into the trees, as if trying to find answers there. 

“Hey, don’t look so glum. Things aren’t so bad. Better than being in a dog fight with the entire kriffing First Order fleet.” 

He swallowed hard as if by doing so he could force back the anxiety writhing in his belly. He shook his head, trying to clear it. He could only imagine what he must have looked like to her, a real Resistance fighter who risked her life on a daily basis. 

 _Like a coward,_ his inner voice supplied in a quite unhelpful fashion. _Like someone who ran away._

“And hey,” Jess continued, apparently bent on cheering him up no matter what, “we have Jedi with us! Do you know how crazy that is? Not just one Jedi, but two? Okay okay, Zizi isn’t a Jedi really, but you know what I mean. Hells, if you think about everything Luke Skywalker managed to pull off, what do we have to worry about?” 

“Array isn’t exactly at his full strength,” he pointed out, trying not to snap at her. That wouldn’t be fair, in the slightest. She was trying. Trying to cheer him up for some damn reason. He wanted to tell her that her energy was better spent on someone more worthy, but bit the words back if only because he didn’t want to sound like an insufferable mewling bantha cub. 

“Still,” she said, taking one of her gloves off with her teeth so she could flex a little feeling back into her fingers, red from the cold. “It’s not the first time I’ve been on a prison planet, either.” 

“Seriously?” He asked, glancing at her. She was nodding like it was nothing. 

“Yeah. Got caught between a bunch of Hutts and a bunch of gangsters. Long story. But we made it out alive. We’ll make it out here, too.” 

“All right, all right,” he said, though he had to admit he was smiling when he said it. “I’m cheered up. Mission accomplished, Blue Three.” 

She barked with laughter and clapped him on the shoulder, and for a moment the clouds cleared and he felt like maybe he really did belong with the Resistance after all.

* * *

“Really, you must lie down…” Athos said, having already followed him through the ship two times over. Array called on his vaunted Jedi patience -which admittedly felt rather thin at the moment - and managed to keep from becoming so aggravated he saw red. 

“Athos,” he said for the third time, the way one might speak to a particularly trying child, “I am bored out of my mind. Please, just let me go on a walk. The day I can’t manage that you might as well put a blaster to my head and spare me all this misery.” 

“Well I would never say such a thing,” she scolded his back as he tried to get away from her for the fourth time that day. “But I will say that for a Jedi you are very stubborn!”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Array said, tugging his robe over his head, “I’m not a Jedi anymore. So I can be just as intractable and annoying as I want.” 

“Are you going _outside?_ Have you lost your mind?” He was not pleased with the universe for making him stumble right as she spoke; he caught the handgrip by the gangplank and prayed that Athos had missed it. 

“What if I promise to sit off to the side and roundly annoy everyone with unsolicited advice?” He said, trying to cover up that he was on the verge of panting for air, already exhausted just from walking around the ship. Just like she’d told him he would feel, not that he would have admitted that for all the credits in the galaxy. He thought of Finn, up and walking, and it brought him some energy. If he did nothing else with his life, he’d done that one good thing. 

She folded her arms over her chest and giving him a mulish look of aggravation, nostrils flared, her mane fuzzy as it stood on end. 

“I can’t exactly stop you, can I?” They both paused, and she said, “Bodhi is going to scold you even worse than I am.”

He groaned, since she was on the money. But then again, he’d rather be annoyed by Bodhi. At least that, he was used to. He hit the door controls and went outside, managing to get a couple of steps into the snow before Bodhi whirled on him and marched right at him.

He put his hands up in a warding gesture. 

“Before you say anything, my friend…please. I’m not going to do anything too taxing.”

He looked back at Athos and gave her a murderous look, daring her to say anything about his health. Mercifully she stayed quiet, though she looked back at him in kind as if daring him to test her further. 

“You shouldn’t even be out here,” Bodhi told him in no uncertain terms, all but waving a finger in his face. It annoyed Bodhi that his moods never really had the desired effect, Array knew, but it was impossible to really take him seriously. When he was angry at other people, sure. But when it was him, Array knew Bodhi couldn’t keep up his head of steam for long. 

“Don’t make that face at me,” Bodhi said. Array fought to keep his eyes placid black; switching out his lens would have given away how amused he was. “Gods, you’re stubborn.”

“That’s what I said!” Athos called from the doorway. 

With a mind to end the argument he reached for the Force, thinking if nothing else he could lift the piles of fronds and branches they’d stacked up to where they needed to go. He managed it, but he fumbled like he hadn’t since his days as a youngling in Crow Clan, sitting cross legged (or as close as he could get) with the others in the Temple, listening intently to their mentor. 

Instantly, he felt it: something wasn’t right. The _Force_ wasn't right. Something on this planet felt far more dangerous than he had anticipated. It wasn’t the same as the last time he and Bodhi had stopped here. Then he’d just felt the latent suffering and struggle of those kept in the prison, and he’d heard the song of the land and the snow and the sun. But this? This was _active_ , somehow. 

Some of the unease must have showed; Bodhi had him by the forearms and was studying him with a look of pure worry on his face. He wondered if Bodhi realized the extent of what he could see, how Bodhi himself was rendered in so many more colors than a human could even conceive of. He could see strands of violet in Bodhi’s black hair, the aurous light in his eyes when he turned his head towards the sky. 

“Arra?” Bodhi said, practically shaking him. 

“I’m all right,” he said reflexively, though a wave of malaise washed over him just then and he realized that might be bordering on a lie. He could see pools of heat in Bodhi’s spine and stomach, a sure sign of anxiety, and he hated to add to it no matter how bad off he actually was. As such, he didn't amend his statement. “I think I should go back to bed, though.”

He tried his best to keep his tone mild. It took everything he had left to walk back to his bed and climb up on it, and he was only faintly aware of Bodhi curling up beside him before he fell headlong into dreamless black sleep. 


	4. Discord

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bodhi, Jess, and friends go about setting up camp as best they can, but their relative peace is soon disrupted.

Bodhi crunched through the frost in his winter boots, hanging back from Array so he wouldn’t frighten all the animals away before Array could strike. His friend slunk through the shadows, belly practically on the ground, his muzzle stretched forward with his tongue stuck out to taste the air. Vor were built such that they could move on all fours if they had to, like when hunting.

Bodhi kept his blaster to hand, ready to give Array some cover if for some reason it became needed. The moment Array bit down at something hapless Bodhi couldn’t yet identify it happened so fast, and he felt a bit foolish for being so paranoid over a being with built in weaponry like sharp claws and fearsome teeth.  

He didn’t put the blaster away, though. 

Array shook the animal until its neck broke then stood up, clearly reluctant to unlock his jaws and let the still warm prey go. It was a big fuzzy white thing, with short, notched ears and a naked tail. Its back paws were hanging limp and its blood all but sizzled in the cool air. Bodhi felt his stomach rumble just looking at it. 

Bodhi wondered; Array could have easily eaten it raw, and surely he was hungry enough to gulp it down. But instead he followed back towards the ship as meek as a hunting hound, his mouth so gentle he didn’t even pierce the thing’s hide beyond what it had taken to grab it and kill it. 

Array laid the creature down near the fire pit they’d all helped hastily dig, Array’s claws still blunt from scraping away at the cold clay. Bodhi’s shoulders and back ached fiercely from wielding a shovel, and he wondered when he’d let himself get so out of shape. He hurried to get the flint and tinder while Array got the spit. 

The moment it was safe to eat, Bodhi snatched a leg from the fire. The carcass had become crispy and fragrant as they’d turned it over the flames, and he ate into the thick haunch with no regard to manners of any kind. The rich grease flooded his mouth and he all but moaned in pleasure as the skin crackled and parted. It tasted like the herbs and berries it had fed on, and the gaminess that spoke of wild caught meat. Bodhi could hardly think of a more delicious meal. 

That said, Array hadn’t made a move to eat anything himself. Bodhi paused while worrying the double jointed lower leg between his teeth, trying to get all the meat off the fiddly little bones. 

“Not hungry?”

“I’m starving,” Array said in a flat tone, poking absently at the fire with a long stick and stirring up sparks that flashed and broke against the grey sky. 

“So…?”

“I’ll get to it,” he said, sounding strangely surly and even a little defensive. Bodhi blinked and set aside what remained of his food. He studied the line of Array’s neck and shoulders, trying to puzzle out some clues or meaning from his friend’s posture or the position of his spines. Array had hardly gone so far as to even snap at him in years, not since they’d stopped trying to insult or even kill each other at every opportunity. 

_The first time he sang to me._

“All right, but you had better have at it before Jess gets back and inhales the rest,” Bodhi prodded as gently as he could. Another terror gripped him then: it wasn’t enough food. The _planet_ didn’t have enough. For any of them, but especially for Array. Yes, there were some prey animals, some lichens and berries. But nothing that could keep all of them going for long, keep them sharp enough to get out of here. 

Whatever they did to help themselves, they had to do it fast. 

Array sighed, that long-suffering sigh that told Bodhi he was going to get what he wanted. Array turned to look at him for a couple beats longer than seemed necessary, and just when he was about to ask what was wrong Array plucked the other haunch from the carcass and ate it. He wanted to press Array to eat it all, but he knew Array would argue that Jess and Zawati had to eat too. 

Satisfied -more or less- Bodhi rubbed snow between his palms to clean his hands, then shrugged out of his olive-drab overcoat. The act of eating had warmed him enough that the big parka with its dirty fur lining was too much, though he wouldn’t have surrendered the navy blue quilted vest he had on underneath so readily. He had his hair loose to offer his ears some protection, though he felt them burning with cold anyway even under his knit cap. 

He reached for Array’s hand, cradling it in his lap and signing into the sensitive skin of his friend’s palm. It wasn’t the usual way of signing Basic, but it was his favorite method when it came to Array. 

_~ Don’t do too much. You’re still ill. I know I’m being a mother hen but… ~_

Array turned to look at him again, those gold lenses over his eyes this time, the look in them soft. He could see Array relax; this kind of signing often did that to him. 

“Hell yeah,” Bodhi heard Jess before he saw her, coming out of the tree line with Zawati behind her. She must have smelled the food, a scent that reminded Bodhi of fresh anise, cardamom, and musk. Zawati looked a lot shiftier than Jess, and Bodhi recognized it: she was guarding Jess’ back. “You catch that, Array?” Jess asked, catching sight of the remaining meat. “Shit, it smells delicious.”

“Saved you some,” Array said, perking up a bit at the sight of them. “I’d like to say it has some meaning in my culture but I honestly wouldn’t know. Suffice to say I’m very hungry and my restraint means I’m very fond of you.”

“Thanks buddy,” Jess said, laughing as she settled on the other side of the fire pit. She reached in and took what was left of the meal, cracking the spine and offering Zawati half. “Same to you. Even got some berries and mushrooms and stuff to prove it.” 

Thank the gods Array could eat almost anything, or this would be even more complicated. Bodhi tried not to count every single blood-red berry Array had as the group passed around what they’d scavenged, but he couldn’t quite stop fretting. 

Athos came out and joined them, though she didn’t speak. She ate when they offered her food, at least, and Jess was so good at cheering people up she was at least smiling by the time they were all…well, not sated, but the edge was off their hunger.  

“You really don’t know, huh?” Jess said, leaning against Zawati like they’d all just eaten a feast instead of a few mouthfuls each. “About being a Vor, I mean.” 

It was all too easy to think of Array as a lizard, albeit a sentient one, especially when the word was used as an insult so often, and given his appearance. But in reality he was his own being, with instincts and characteristics that had little to nothing to do with the tiny, swift things Bodhi often spotted in their garden back home. 

“Well, I know some,” Array said. “I was older than most when I went to the Temple, but still a very young child. I remember some things, like my parents, the Cathedral of Winds, other children my age. But…I never researched it further. I couldn’t bring myself to. They didn’t want me, so I didn’t want them, either.” 

Athos looked up, her pansy eyes huge with recognition. 

“You too huh, Athos?” Jess said, frowning. “Well I’ve put my fucking foot in it.”

“No, it’s all right,” Athos murmured. “Maybe we’re both better off for it.” She added, giving Array a hopeful look. He gave her an encouraging thumbs up. 

“You got it. We are.” 

Though it was tremulous, at least Athos smiled.

* * *

As night fell over their camp, Array slunk out of the woods with another animal caught in his jaws. Bodhi hadn’t been able to justify watching out for him this time with so much to do as far as setting up for a longer stay than they’d intended but he quietly worried as he worked, spiraling deeper and deeper whilst trying to put his best face forward to the others. 

Array didn’t even bother to stand up this time, just came over on all fours and laid the creature at his feet. This one was bigger than the first, some kind of snowbird with grey barred feathers and three huge yellow eyes that took up most of its head. Its neck was at a gorge-inducing angle; this animal had met the same fate as the creature Array had killed some hours earlier. 

Bodhi crouched down to inspect it, then smiled at Array. His friend still seemed in the grip of some kind of hunting trance, and it took him visible effort to come out of it. Bodhi took the bird, stroking its soft feathers. He had to resist the urge to pat Array’s head like he would have with one of their akk-dogs.

“Great catch, my friend,” he said, impressed. He couldn’t have made an equivalent shot with his blaster. Array could move much quicker, and his patience let him wait for the right moment to strike as much as it made him likable and understanding of others. Array sat up, shaking his head as if to clear it. He didn’t have his robe on, and his scales were dirty with snow from where he’d crawled along tracking their food. 

“Well,” Zawati said, coming over to nudge Array with her foot. “Come and drink some tea, at least. You’re going to be very cold in a moment. You look like an ice sculpture.” 

Array didn’t seem to have the strength or desire to argue, and followed Zawati silently to the campfire. Bodhi came along behind, still holding the bird. Jess took it off him as soon as he showed up, plucking it and adding the meat to the bone broth she’d made from the leavings of their first meal. 

“I hate to ruin the mood,” Zawati said, while they all sat about eating in companionable silence, “but…”

“Two things,” Jess took over seamlessly. Only then did Bodhi notice she had a crown of tiny white blooms woven into her dark hair. Zawati's doing, no doubt. “One, I’m sure you all have this figured, but we can’t stay here forever. The temperate area is too far away. We’re out of fuel, and we don’t have very many supplies. But there is one place that might have what we need.” 

“The prison,” Athos supplied, twisting her hands tight in the tails of her sash. 

“I thought everyone there was in stasis,” Array pointed out, less surly now that he’d had more to eat. “Don’t need supplies when you aren’t even breathing in and out.” 

“No,” Zawati agreed, “but there are bound to be caretakers. It’s a chance we have to take. We can’t feed this group on foraging, even with you hunting for us.” 

“I hate sitting around,” Array added, shrugging, “so why not? They might at least have a more secure method of communicating than we do.”

“Maybe we could get a message out to the Resistance,” Jess finished, snapping her fingers. She grinned and it was so infectious Bodhi found himself smiling in return, despite the anxiety frothing up his blood. 

They all fell to their chores, making ready for the journey. Bodhi didn’t know how long had passed when he finally looked up to see Zawati standing at the tree line. She looked her most witchy when framed by nature, her head upturned as she studied the sky. A discordant note rung in Bodhi’s chest.

_Oh gods. What if it’s not just anxiety?_

Array looked similarly troubled, having paused with one of his back feet up, a gesture that meant he was unsure, shy, or thinking hard on a puzzle he hadn’t quite made fit together yet. He went rigid all of a sudden, nares flaring, spines up, the cartilage in his good wing stiff. 

“Get in the ship,” he said, his voice tense. “All of you. Now.” 

It was nothing like his usual tones, which tended to range from placid to cheerful. Bodhi got up without argument, and so did Jess, as if Array had given them a command backed by the Force. Maybe he had, or he’d used that Vor vocal talent for making others feel things. Jess’ looked like someone had whipped her over the head with her own blaster, but she still took Athos’ elbow and steered her to the gangplank. 

“Zawati,” Array said, grabbing her forearm and meeting her eyes. “I need your help. Quickly.” 


	5. Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The First Order is an ever present threat, and avoiding them requires heroic effort. But how long before there is nothing left to draw on?

Whatever was going on, Zawati had clued in during the few moments it took to walk up the gangplank. Bodhi knew because she looked as grim as Array did after that, and even less talkative. Bodhi and Jess went inside next to one another, exchanging tense looks. Athos looked like a walking bristle bush again, a sure sign she was at least as anxious as he was. 

“Is someone going to tell us what the kriff is going on?” Jess whispered as they all gathered together in the main meeting space at the middle of the ship. The table they sat around had a couple of betting games stored in its holo display, and Bodhi longed to be playing and laughing together with his friends instead of huddling together like a nest of starving womp rats. 

_Just waiting for someone to pick us off._

“Star Destroyer,” Array said, reaching for Zawati’s hands across the table. Bodhi understood, then. Alone Array and Zawati weren’t strong enough to do whatever it was Array had in mind after all the energy they’d spent, but together…their palms touched and Bodhi felt the Grey Force first, a velvety null field that settled on them like spring rain in an old growth forest. Then, Zawati’s Darkness, a massive, deadly viper that encircled them until they sat inside an ourobrous. Not for the first time, Bodhi felt glad Zawati was on their side.  

“ _What?”_ Bodhi heard himself say in a chorus with Jess. Athos squeaked and hid her face in her hands, rocking in her chair as if already sure they were facing their last moments. She could hardly be blamed; Bodhi thought of the Dauntless hanging low over Jedha, reminding everyone of the Empire’s might and reach. How at any time, those massive weapon banks could be turned against the people, against the women and children and their cities and villages. 

Of course, it wasn’t the Dauntless they’d had to worry about. 

“They’ll do an initial sensor sweep,” Array said, and Bodhi followed along; he knew star destroyers, knew more about them than he wanted to know, in fact. Knew enough that his mouth had gone dry as a Jedha winter and the backs of his eyes were pricking as if some sadistic torturer had jammed him full of needles. “Low, to see if there’s anyone sentient around they need to kill.”

“Then…” Athos said, dropping her hands, her face wide-eyed. “Those poor people.” 

“There is nothing to be done,” Zawati said, her voice strained in a way she rarely evidenced. She sounded absolutely exhausted, yet she held her part of the Force field without faltering. “We can barely hide ourselves, let alone the people who live here. We’ll have to hope they can take cover in time.” 

“We’ll have to hope they don’t firebomb the entire surface!” Athos said, on the sharp edge of hysteria. “Or we won’t even get a chance to hide.” 

“We can hide well enough that they won’t, with the Force,” Array told her, and Bodhi genuinely had no idea whether Array was lying or not. But Athos seemed willing to accept it, though her breathing was still too fast and too shallow. She’d gripped the rim of the table as if it were the only thing keeping her upright, and Bodhi felt a hit of empathy. She had bravery to her, willing to involve herself with the Resistance despite not having a very heroic temperament. 

“First Order here because of us?” Jess asked, still whispering. Bodhi watched her, even as he sat trembling in his chair. A funny energy swirled around her, a mood he thought might be her fighting a boiling rage. She didn’t look afraid the way Athos did. Where the appearance of the destroyer had sapped Athos courage, it had enlivened Jess in a way that made him deeply uneasy. 

“I don’t think so,” Array said, sounding distant and floaty like he’d had a generous swallow of fresh vincha. “I doubt they’d bring a Star Destroyer for a scraggly band of non-essentials, even if they did realize we were here. They don’t know there are Force users around, unless someone or something tipped them off. Even then, not that many people even saw us back on the _Raddus_.”

That could change all too easily, of course. The First Order had its own Force users, and while it didn’t seem like they were numerous some of them had to be at least as powerful as Array and Zawati. Would this destroyer have someone that strong? He felt like his terror alone was a huge beacon, something surely anyone could have seen even through the dampening field his friends were creating. 

“Pretty sure we got rid of all the Resistance traitors,” Jess muttered, making Bodhi wonder exactly what that meant. Her dark expression spoke of some past experience that still haunted her, only adding to her failing calm. 

Though the viewscreens were covered with fronds and branches, the darkness of a low flying star destroyer was still apparent as it came overhead. It plunged the common room into blackness, and while normally Array at least would have conjured up some light for the humans to feel more secure by, he couldn’t spare even the bare flicker of energy it required. 

Bodhi reached over and grabbed Athos’ hand, squeezing to keep her grounded. Really to keep them _both_ from going bloody mad. But it was Jess he should have been worried about. She jumped to her feet, sweeping the kaf cups set haphazardly around to the floor where they burst apart into a thousand pieces. She bolted for the door, but not out of fear; he could see she meant to somehow go and fight every single First Order boot licker on her own. She snatched a blaster from the rack near the door, then shot off down the hallway towards the gangplank. 

Zawati got up and went after her without thinking, and her part of the Force spell flickered as she divided her attention. Array went rigid, his eyes wide with panic; he could have done this on his own before, yes, but not after spending so much on Finn. Still, he wrestled with the matrix he and Zawati had woven, so panicked Bodhi could practically hear his hearts racing. If he let that matrix drop, they would die, and the Force here gave no concessions. 

Faintly through his roaring pulse he heard Jess yelling insults and challenges, and Zawati shouting Jess’ name. 

Then it was his turn to get up, crossing the small distance between him and Array. He came close to bumping into Array at speed, but instead stopped short and practically wormed his way into Array’s lap. So enmeshed with the mystical, Array might not have even noticed him had he been a little more polite. 

“Take my energy,” he said, winding his arms around Array’s neck and pressing his cheek to Array’s, “you can’t keep the spell going yourself.”

Athos saw what he was about and did the same, coming around the table on the other side and taking one of Array’s nerveless hands. 

“Mine too, if you use both of our energies it won’t be so bad.” 

Array was so caught up with the spell that Bodhi wasn’t sure if he could even hear them, even with all of his friend’s sensitivity to sound, but then he felt the Force run over him like a _very_ intimate hand. He squeaked in a highly undignified manner, at the same moment Athos drew in a sharp breath. Without the energy for politeness or reservedness, Array’s touch was unexpectedly forward. 

Bodhi tried his best to swallow his terror, to stop thinking about what the Empire did to people who defected. The First Order was so similar they’d even resurrected the trappings of the old ways, the destroyers, the weapons and star fighters. Last he’d checked, there had still been a price on his head too. _Someone_ had to be backing that up with credits. 

The spell snapped back into place and he sagged with sheer relief. No one would be getting his payout today. Array’s free claw combed wearily through his hair. 

“Thank you,” his friend murmured in his ear, and he took it as a cue to close his eyes; they were safe, for a little while. He was asleep before he could form another thought. 

* * *

“Jess!” 

Jess heard Zawati’s cry, but only barely. She grabbed for the blaster on the rack, its cold weight in her hand the only real and consistent sensation in a welter of confusion. She jammed her arms into her coat sleeves, took an energy cell from the pocket, and jammed it into her weapon. Let the First Order fuckers come. She’d take them out, kill every last one of them. 

Just as she was about to slam her fist on the button that would have opened the gangplank for her, Zawati grabbed her and forcibly dragged her back. She fought like a wildcat without even thinking about it, twisting and squirming, demanding to be let go. If she’d been willing to use her dirtiest tricks she could have gotten away, but her dim awareness that it was Zawati meant she was going to lose right from the beginning. 

“I’ll kill them all!” She howled, some dim part of her alarmed at the raw, insane quality of her own voice. “First Order scum!” She went for the blaster again, pressed between their struggling bodies. Zawati was faster, throwing it away in a wide arc. “Pieces of bantha shit chuff sucking slime!” 

“Jess. Jessika.” Zawati said, dragging her to the floor and holding her there. “Listen to me. You’ll get your chance, I promise you.”

She saw Zawati looking down at her full of concern, and suddenly she found herself bawling ugly, racking tears. The rage turned into sorrow turned into helplessness until she was being gathered into Zawati’s embrace like a child, no strength left in her limbs. In fact, Zawati stood up, carrying her easily. She’d never get used to that unexpected strength, and it barely kept the smell of jet fuel from rising up within her to remind her of all the torments of the past. 

“I’m sorry, Array,” Jess heard Zawati say, “I…”

“No,” Array said, sounding like every word took heroic effort, “I would have done the same. Help me? We all need sleep.” 

Somehow between them all, they ended up piled up like puppies in one of the sleeping compartments, everyone flopped around or on Array to take advantage of his warmth. 

* * *

“Bodhi.” He heard his name faintly, through a heavy curtain of blackness. Gods, he was tired. The exhaustion dragged at him the way a planet with high gravity would drag at his shuttle during take off, as if greedy to keep him grounded. He could feel the irregular thud of his thready heartbeat, felt the blanket he’d dragged from the bed before collapsing tangled around his legs and pinning one of his arms to his side. 

“Bodhi,” he heard again. His eyes hadn’t caught up yet, but his ears were wide open; it was a soft kind of thrill to hear his name said in that way. It was just a whisper, but it had layers that left him dazzled by the complexity. “Gods, I wish you hadn’t.”

Array. Only Array had a voice like that. He searched through his addled mind for the subject being referred to, and realized in bits and pieces that came together far too slowly that Array meant having given his energy to the spell to keep them hidden. Oh. No wonder he felt like a team of stormtroopers had walked right over him. Repeatedly and with extreme prejudice. 

“You needed the help,” he managed, though his tongue felt thick and clumsy like it used to after a night of drinking cheap jet juice. He felt Array touch his cheek, at least, a more pleasant sensation that just about anything else he was experiencing at the moment. Slowly as he woke he recognized Athos’ furry bulk against his back, and Jess softly snoring near his head. When he put his hand out, for a moment it brushed against the warm silk of Zawati’s dress. 

He must have showed his surprise in one way or another because Array said, 

“We were all down for the count after that. And things got cold fast after the star destroyer decided to park right over us.”

Oh. That explained the puppy pile. He snuggled in closer to Array, greedy for all the warmth he could get. Array hugged him hard and he tucked his head under Array’s chin, listening to the purr just getting started in Array’s throat. He almost fell asleep again, but he clung to consciousness, wanting to say more.

“M’sorry if I scared you,” he added, though he would have done things exactly as he had if given a second opportunity. 

“I couldn’t have done it without you and Athos,” Array said, but Bodhi realized that was the rub: Array was nothing if not a protector and didn’t like the fact that he hadn’t been able to take care of them without help. 

“Stubborn lizard,” Bodhi said, giving Array’s muzzle a playful push, “take the help.” 

“I could have run you dry,” Array said, and this time his voice stayed quiet, but Bodhi could hear the rough quality horror had brought. “Hurt you. Worse.” 

Bodhi thought of his own exhaustion and wondered what it would be like to also have the Force, another tank that had run dry atop all the physical and mental effort. The primal urge to take energy from whatever source presented itself. The Dark Side, tempting Array to do just that. 

“You wouldn’t.” Despite the thrill of fear against his spine like a cut, sparking wire, he did truly believe that. 

He flashed back to the last time he’d seen Array use the Dark Side, literally tearing his way into the shitty clinic that had promised help only to try and steal his organs for sale on the black market.  He’d come close to not seeing it at all, tearing the I.V. out of his arm before it could knock him out by mere seconds. The sounds of skulls exploding into so much wet muck made him shudder. It had been a fearsome display of power, rage, and murderousness. Yet, somehow…

“Don’t be so sure,” Array grumbled. “I couldn’t…if I hurt you…”

“Don’t worry so much,” Bodhi told him gently, “rather take my chances with you.” 

Unlike some people in his life, Array had never put a hand on him that he didn’t want.  

There was a long moment of silence, like Array was trying to decide what to say to that. Bodhi had the distinct feeling that he’d decided against his first choice and picked “go back to sleep” instead. Bodhi was in no position to argue. 

 


	6. Thread

“Asajj was taken from Dathomir at a young age,” Zawati said as she ranged ahead. She had her heavy black cloak on, though she’d taken the hood down to reveal her white hair. She seemed better after a round in the fresher and some breakfast, such as it was, so Jess tried not to worry herself right into the ground. Hell, none of them were at their full strength and that was just the way it was.

_Nothing to be done about it. Best not to worry on it._

She followed after Zawati like an enchanted young hunter who’d caught sight of a snow owl, its feathers bright between the black branches of the trees. 

“She became the apprentice of a powerful Sith,” Zawati said, reaching out her hand to touch the few nodding plants marking out their path. Sometimes it seemed like if there was a single bloom on a whole entire planet, Zizi would find it. “And also the apprentice of a powerful Jedi. Very rare, that one creature should have both the Dark and the Light in that manner. Perhaps that is why it was so easy for her to switch between them, that she was able to avoid drowning in the Dark at the end.” 

Jess grunted in acknowledgment, bringing up the rear. A frisson of unease settled into her belly; she guessed she’d never be comfortable with all this Force stuff.

 _You better kriffing try,_ she thought. For someone as uneasy as her around magic bullshit she sure kept the worst kind of company. Thank the stars Bodhi and Athos were around, or she’d have felt real left out. 

“Asajj’s Jedi master was murdered. They were stranded on Rattatak…do you know it?” 

“Sure. Outer Rim planet. Lots of mountains. And pirates.” 

“Indeed.” Zawati said, dipping her head low and straightening her path, the cloak following her every move so that she looked like a dancer on stage, the kind that could tell whole stories without ever saying or singing a word. “Eventually, the pirates won out. But not over Ventress herself.” 

“Why are you telling me this?” Jess said. She wanted the question to be forceful and demanding, but instead she sounded like she was whispering prayers next to a bog as a wrapped body disappeared beneath the surface. She’d caught Zawati in the act of kneeling to find berries amongst the scrub, her cloak becoming beetle wings idle on the snowy ground cover. 

Zawati paused for a long moment without speaking. 

“It is my way,” she said, scrunching her shoulders together for a moment in a little shrug, as if to admit to it had felt like a defeat. She had a little flower in her hand, Jess noted, her fingers dark red with berry juice. 

Jess practically rushed at her, kneeling in the snow and grabbing at Zawati’s wrist with the half-formed notion of scrubbing that terrible color from Zawati’s skin. 

“Zizi,” she said, or more accurately growled, “I know. Telling stories? Like we did on Dandoran. Stories with a lesson. What’s this one?” 

Zawati looked at her directly then, but her expression showed how stricken she was. Zawati had a lot of selves, ritualist, elder, witch. Nightsister. This was none of those. 

“You told me once,” Jess said, “what happened to Ventress. She died.”

“She did,” Zawati confirmed, fixing her with a direct stare. “She had been Dooku’s apprentice and when she tried to flee that life to come back to Dathomir, we had to flee in turn when Dooku’s droids came to kill us. The three of us -Asajj, Talzin, and myself - chose different paths in the hopes that they couldn’t find us all. Asajj went on to have many more adventurers and trials, often with some of the most well known figures in all the galaxies.”

“How did she _die_ , Zizi?” 

Jess ground out between gritted teeth. 

“She met and fell in love with another Jedi, named Quinlan Vos. That in itself is a series of tales it would take moons to tell you the fullness of. Ultimately, she sacrificed herself to protect him, even though he had given himself to the Dark Side as completely as Dooku.”

Jess felt horror as though she’d stood too close to a nuclear blast, leaving only an after image of her curled up body behind on the pavement. 

“Is that what you think is going to happen to you?” 

Zawati carried herself that way if you knew to look, queenly, self-assured, but always there could be detected around her a certain melancholy resignation. 

“Jessika…”

“No. Tell me,” Jess demanded, heedless of the cold seeping through the knees of her trousers. “Tell me why _this_ story.” 

“Jessika,” Zawati said again, gentler this time, covering Jess’ hand with hers. “I am the only one left. Things come in threes. When that happens…” 

“ _When?”_ Jess practically shrieked. “What? You want me to be _prepared_? I’m never going to be prepared. That’s _not_ going to be our story.” She had to consciously keep herself from tightening her hold on Zawati’s wrist hard enough to leave bruises. “Do you hear me?”

Jess felt a chill and knew that Zawati had come close to peeling her hand off and cursing at her, but it passed as quickly as it had come. Whatever distance lay between them and whatever the major differences in their life experiences, it wasn’t that distance or those differences that held the most sway. 

“I hear you. And I swear to you I will not go seeking the night. But, you _will_ promise me something in return.”

“What is it?” 

“Nor will _you_ go seeking the night to save me. If it comes to it, between you and I, you will let me make this sacrifice. Don’t take that from me.” 

She wanted to argue about that for the next cycle, wanted to protest and shout and cry. Instead she said,

“I promise. But, maybe neither of us needs to die. Don’t forget that.” 

Zawati leaned in to place the most delicate of kisses on her mouth, and Jess accepted it; it was the best signature on their contract she was likely to get. 

“Now,” Zawati said when they parted, “what shall we do about our predicament here, hm?”

* * *

When they got back to camp Bodhi was sitting with Array’s gimpy hand in his lap, working the knots out of it with gentle pressure and a generous dose of some kind of liniment that tickled Jess’ nose until she muffled a sneeze against her sleeve. 

Array’s jaw was set tight, and his eyes were narrowed. He had his head turned to the side as if he couldn’t bear to look, but he sat quietly without fidgeting much even though Bodhi’s efforts had to be hurting him bad. That sort of thing always hurt worse before it got better, and Jess could see he still had a couple of fingers cramped up like he couldn’t uncurl them himself. 

_Dammit. Knew we shouldn’t have let him help dig the fire pit._

“Hey listen,” Jess said, striding into camp with her hands jammed into her pockets. Array startled as if she’d caught him doing something improper, but settled quick enough. Bodhi seemed to know she had something to sell to them, regarding her with a bird-like tilt to his head. “Look, me and Zizi have been talking.”

As if on cue, Zawati materialized at her back. She glanced over at… _who? My lover? My love?_ The pink skein in Zawati’s hair caressed the side of her lovingly carved face, making her somber expression all the moreso for being thus underscored. The rest of her hair, still plaited, had fallen over her shoulder, the tail resting between her breasts. 

“Oh yes?” Bodhi said, making her tear her gaze away from Zawati. Array regarded them with what Jess thought was suspicion. She hadn’t quite figured out all his expressions yet, but he managed to look quite human at times despite his alien features. She suppressed a shiver; could he read her mind? She thought of Luke Skywalker and the good he had done, all the bravo zulu shit he’d managed to pull off. That had been at least in part because of the Force. But…

“Jessika,” Zawati said, quietly prompting her. 

“Yeah,” she continued, noting Athos walking out of the ship. Good, Athos ought to hear it too. “No matter what happens at the prison, we aren’t going to get off planet if we don’t do something about that star destroyer.”

“No, Jess. No way,” Array blurted. He had his spines up at an angle that betrayed his alarm, those milky white lenses over his eyes. She was starting to figure that usually happened when his dander was up about something; tripping his hunter’s instinct maybe. He looked half out of his seat, as if he was about to get up and give her an earnest argument as to why she shouldn’t do whatever crazy plan he was sure she was about to pitch.

_Well, he’s got a point._

“Look, I’ve done it a lot of times! Took on a whole new personality, a new backstory, whatever. I can come up with something to get me onto the ship and then all I have to do is fuck it up when I get there. Zizi can help me. We figure I’ll get taken on as a tech or something, and Zawati will sneak on. One person in the open, one person in the shadows. Zizi’s got the Force! She can hide herself fine.” 

“What if something happens to you?” Array demanded, grinding his back teeth in the way he tended to do when stressed. She found herself taken aback by how much he clearly cared; something about him made him tend towards the protective. Something like losing Raven Flight had done to her, maybe? “Certainly they’ve brought their own Force users, if they have them.” 

“What else can we do?” She said with more passion than she meant to. She leant into it though, making her words forceful but stopping just short of shouting. “We can’t just slink around in their shadow forever. I’m sick of the aluminum cloud overhead.” 

Bodhi was watching her with a mix of dread and resignation. He knew he wasn’t about to talk her out of this, it seemed, so he didn’t even try. 

“Jyn and Cassian did something very similar,” he pointed out, speaking slowly as if sorting through his thoughts, or more properly memories over thirty years old. 

“And they all died,” Array reminded him softly. “And you almost did, too.”

“We will do this,” Zawati said, her voice ringing forth with steady authority and ending the conversation instantly. “There is more than one way to take down a star destroyer. You two, go to the prison. The thread of fate is already tied to you,” she added, meeting Array’s eyes. “Go and find whatever it is leading you to. I sense it will be of great importance.” 

Array sighed and looked down, studying his bad hand still clasped in Bodhi’s good ones. 

“You’re right,” he said with disturbing finality, as though Zawati had told him to walk to the gallows. 

* * *

Bodhi watched Array get dressed once they’d retreated back to the room they’d claimed, already kitted out himself in his blue quilted vest, black cargo pants, and furry coat. It wasn’t considered taboo for a Vor to go without clothes on most worlds - none of their uh, sensitive parts were on display until needed - but for this it would be necessary. They’d have to go through frozen wasteland to get to The Tomb - _lovely name for a prison -_ and though the terrain was mixed in places and consequently warmer, that was all relative. 

Array didn’t own much, never able to really grasp the concept after a good decade as a slave (though he wasn’t above stealing…Bodhi wondered if Jess knew where her spare coins and loose dice had been disappearing to). The things he did have, though, he was reluctant to get rid of; Bodhi shook his head a little as Array pulled that ragged robe of his over his head and belted it with one of the utility belts Athos had dug out of storage. He couldn’t have said how long Array had owned the poor put upon garment, but it was probably several years too long by most standards. If it kept him warm, though, Bodhi didn’t care how rough it made Array look.  

They’d managed to find a coat he fit into, too, though they’d had to do some creative last minute tailoring, like splitting it partway down his forearms and resetting the shoulder seams so he could get the bloody thing on in the first place. It looked like it was meant to be that way once he’d shrugged into it, at least, a long leather and fur affair that made him look like a Jedi who had taken a hard left into a life of crime after some truly checkered decisions which, Bodhi supposed, was exactly what he was. The blaster on his hip added to that assumption, slung low the way he could still remember Jyn wearing hers. 

For the first time since he and Array had shown up at the Resistance base, Array took his lightsaber from its hiding spot, this time stashed under the bunk. He didn’t bother picking it up physically **;** the weapon practically jumped into his hand at the slightest nudge from the Force. Bodhi watched, afraid to breathe, as Array studied the handle. It had been a long time since his friend had wielded the ‘saber, but Bodhi didn’t think that the scrutiny had to do with any sort of fear about the skill required. 

“Arra?” He asked after a moment, unsure. Sometimes his own Force sensitivity let him read a person with astonishing accuracy, but those people were usually tavern crawlers and criminals. Some had very sophisticated minds, but few had the Force themselves to push his consciousness away with. Array was a different matter, almost impossible to read unless he wanted to be read. 

By way of an answer the ‘saber blazed to life in Array’s more functional claw, a silver double-bladed style weapon that burned in the relative gloom of the room. Array spun it like doing so required absolutely no effort, so skillful nothing in the tight space even risked being clipped. For a moment, pleasant, erudite Array looked cold in the white off-cast light. 

He switched it off, and things went back to normal, though belatedly Bodhi realized his heart was pounding. He’d never get used to lightsabers. 

“Let’s hope i don’t have to use this, hm?” Array said as if talking about the recent melon harvest or how much water he’d collected from their rain barrels. 

A Jedhaan curse came to his lips before he even thought about it consciously. He felt the strangest urge to clap his hand over his mouth; how long since he had said anything in Jedhaan? Literally decades, maybe. This planet had an odd effect on him, on all of them. A certain pall had hung over them ever since landing, and if anything it had only gotten worse with time. 

When they walked back towards the others, Athos looked up from a pile of supplies. They’d put everything they could find on the table in the middle of the ship, a few bacta bandages, some painkillers. A couple of explosives still in their cross body harnesses. Blasters and blaster cartridges. A few ration bars. 

_Better than nothing._

“Bodhi,” Athos said, sounding more confident than usual. “Array. I’ll have all this together for you quick. I’ve got some extra things…epinephrine, vinca, the standard equipment for a field medic plus whatever I could scrounge up that could be helpful.”

She directed a rueful look at the meager pile of items.

“I wish I could offer you more,” she said, “but we were low on everything before you even showed up.” 

“Athos…” Array started. She looked up, her eyes sharp. 

“You’re going to ask me what I’m going to do while you’re all off being heroes,” she said, a little acerbic; Bodhi wondered how many times she’d been expected to act like heroism was just expected of her, when her temperament wasn’t suited to the kind of thing that made Poe the best pilot in the Resistance.

“I’m going to ask you what you’re going to do to stay safe,” Array said, instantly about as defensive as Athos was. “You think I want to break up the group like this?”

If Array had his way he would have herded them all into one room and not let any of them leave until an escape off world was all but assured. 

“I’m sorry,” Athos said, too weary, apparently, to argue. She looked down again and all but deflated, to the point where Array went over and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. 

“So am I,” Array said. “But it is true I want you to be safe.”

“Well, someone has to stay with the ship. And really, there’s no safe place on this whole planet with a star destroyer overhead.” 

Bodhi came up and took one of the harnesses, turning it over in his hands. A couple of sticky explosives, some blaster cartridges. Nothing too fancy, but he’d rather have it than not. He buckled it over his chest and around his waist, taking the roughspun medic’s pouch next and slinging it over his shoulder. 

When he looked up, Array was watching him. Array had a way of smiling with his eyes, and it flustered Bodhi to have the look turned on him. Before he could ask what Array was staring at, Array said, “I guess you turned out to be a Rebellion hero after all, hm?” 

Bodhi looked down at himself, struck then by how much he looked like one of those old propaganda posters, the ones that occasionally made it onto the streets of NiJedha even after the occupation. At least as far as how he was dressed and armed. He couldn’t imagine anyone being impressed once they got a good look at him. 

“Look at _your_ outfit while you’re at it,” he pointed out. Array snorted and laughed.

“I look like ten ferrets in a burlap sack,” Array said. “Don’t think they’ll put this look on a poster.” 

Athos actually smiled, and Bodhi realized he had never really seen her do so before. It cheered him up better than much else could, and he let himself return it. 


	7. Object

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Aiden

Array paused at the tree line, taking in information as best he could. His wind-sensors felt dead, besides stinging with pain at the cold breeze whipping over his face. He turned his head only a millimeter or two, searching for more. The fog slithered over the sensitive spot on that side of his head, making the sensor behind his eye itch. Like perfume, winds had several layers. Here, the topmost sensation was a crisp wintery snap. The heart, a swirling, vegetal mist. All well and good.

It was the _base_ scent that unsettled him most. It had a quality like a newly minted knife, smelling still of the factory. The prison, maybe. A place like that could be sensed even from far away, if one had the correct abilities. 

The Force could be perceived also, of course, like a sucking, swirling sinkhole only a fool would dive into. Its true depths were inscrutable, even to him. It shouldn’t have been so, and his hearts picked up in a competing staccato rhythm as he thought about why exactly that might be. It felt unnatural, as if the Force were trying to animate the planet’s skeleton through a series of clandestine experiments, each more depraved than the last. 

He heard Bodhi’s footsteps long before Bodhi appeared, and felt thankful for the distraction. He pulled his awareness back, not eager to probe any deeper into such a vortex. 

“What is it?” Bodhi said, coming to a halt at his side. 

He paused, wondering if humans ever thought about their own voices. He could hear layers in Bodhi’s tone just as his wind sensors had given him detailed information about the environment. The topmost part of Bodhi’s words were as they often were when Bodhi spoke; crackling with anxiety. The heart, he…often avoided analyzing too deeply, but at the moment Bodhi’s words were silken with concern, and though it bothered him when Bodhi worried it still felt pleasant to his ear. He would have been able to tell more, he thought, had he not allowed himself to develop such poor judgment when it came to his friend. 

“This place makes me uneasy,” he said, though he kicked himself; obviously. They were all uneasy. “The Force does.”

“Like you’re being watched?” Bodhi asked. When he looked over, he saw Bodhi shiver and rub at his arms as if…what was the saying? He combed through his mental archive, a thing he often imagined as the old Temple library had been: a series of crystalline data banks that one could only sort properly with enough control over the Force to move them about, to interact with their glyphs and unseal the information within. 

“Like someone walked over your grave?” He said, remembering it as a colloquialism common on several human-majority worlds. 

“Very good,” Bodhi teased. “That one was out of Nar Shaddaa, wasn’t it?”

“Mm,” he agreed. “Because the planet nearest that is Nal Hutta, and there they say: “as if a clowder of loth-cats shit on your tomb.” 

It got a laugh out of Bodhi, at least, and that cheered Array some in turn. He felt relieved it hadn’t made Bodhi sadder still; they’d both avoided talking about their cats and the dogs, as if not speaking about them would protect them somehow. He was a mystic, true, but sometimes that made one more superstitious, not less. He offered a silent prayer for Mathilde, too. 

Still. In the here and now, the air felt pregnant with creeping dread. He was loathe to breathe it in, and not just because his lungs felt taxed to their working capacity, just like everything else. He knew himself well enough physically to sense it all, to know that he had so very little left. The part of his spine that connected his tail to his torso felt tight and ached with the effort of keeping him balanced. His eyes were dry, so that every blink felt like peering right into a sandstorm. He could think of a hundred similar complaints, small on their own, but together…

If he and Bodhi were going to make it, he had to take in some of that Force no matter how it bothered him; in place of real energy, he had to make it work. His control had always been his weakest skill, but Bodhi couldn’t help him this time. No matter what Bodhi thought, his friend didn’t have the energy to bail him out thrice in as many days. 

Bodhi’s elbow in his ribs startled him, and he looked down, surprised. Bodhi was smiling at him, one eyebrow arched. 

“Wool-gathering, Arra?” 

“I’m sorry,” he said, tripping over the terms of affection he often wanted to add to his sentences when speaking to Bodhi. “This planet brings it out of me, I’m afraid.”

As if speaking it had ordered his thoughts, he could understand at least part of his unease: the Force was plucking at his Dark Side, like someone inexpertly plucking at the strings on a mandolin. Not so much that it would have put a whole concert off, but enough that an audience member with a keen ear could have felt the discord if not heard it outright. 

He could feel the place inside his being that was still riven in two, its edges sharper than usual. That, no teacher of his had been able to heal. He had better skills now, Grey techniques to keep him from tumbling into that yawning crevasse. But healed? No. Wounds made by Darth Vader were reluctant to close.

One of those techniques was to let the waves of blackness wash over his head, that instead of struggling against the Dark, it was better to dance with it. 

“Okay,” Jess said, coming out of the ship. He and Bodhi turned to look, and he was surprised to see her in nothing but a roughspun shift. It must look plain to human eyes, though he could pick out little threads of gold, umber, and buff in its weave and weft. 

“I have a plan,” she continued, scrubbing her hands through her hair to make it look unkempt. The rough bar of handmade soap she’d dug out of the fresher hit his nares with a cloud of lilac petals; he could almost see the bumblebees. “I’m going to be a prisoner that escaped. Not from the prison, but from the natives.”

“Why?” Athos asked, she and Zawati following after Jess. “You said the people here are friendly.”

“They are,” Bodhi added, a sour look on his face. He knew what Jess was up to, he must. “But the First Order probably thinks they’re primitive flesh-eaters.” 

Athos gasped, putting her hand to her mouth. 

“Yeah, First Order is full of speciest assholes,” Jess agreed, tying her hair up in a messy tail and digging her bare feet into the frigid earth. Array tried not to fret about her fragile human toes. “So they’ll believe they were about to put me in the stew pot. Or at least, I have a good chance that they’ll believe me.”

“They will,” Zawati said. The notes of _her_ voice were all confidence, a heady mixture of low, sludgy sounds like a bass string tuned loose, with a glimmering overlay: her Force signature writhing through it like a green…a serpent? No, like mist. What…

He wanted to dive deeper, feeling as if he were on the verge of discovering something important, but when he focused again on the mundane world Zawati had affixed him with a stare that almost made him stumble back from her. 

 _Sorry,_ he thought, and as if the planet were repeating his words he felt _sorry-sorry-sorry_ in a ghostly chorus. He couldn’t keep from shuddering, as if a coven of wraiths had come to run their pallid hands over his hide. 

“Let’s go,” he said, gruffer than he meant. He shook his head, reset himself, and walked over to his friends to take their hands for a moment. “I feel ridiculous telling you to be safe in these circumstances, but…do your best?” 

“Sure,” Jess said, with a breezy confidence that told him she had absolutely no intention of playing it safe. But still, he appreciated the reassurance. Zawati touched his forehead, outlining a sigil he didn’t recognize. He stood without twitching so much as a muscle, recognizing what she was about immediately if not the exact form. 

“A blessing,” she said, motioning Bodhi over to touch his hands. Athos was last to come, as if she didn’t think she belonged in their circle. Zawati curled a lock of Athos’ hair around one graceful finger. “Go with the ancestors, my friends.” 

And then she and Jess were away into the woods, and Athos turned and rushed back into the ship. He could hear her muffled sobs, as clear as a struck chime. 

* * *

They’d been walking for gods knew how long when the very air itself changed, like a whip crack. Bodhi felt pure electricity run up his arms and Array had his spines up, his muzzle peeled back to reveal tightly clenched teeth. A moment earlier they’d been talking companionably in low voices - they did have many, many years worth of experiences and tales they shared, and occasionally liked to relive together - the next…

They’d paused right near a fallen log once they’d crossed into a more swamp-like area, one that had a little hump in the middle, leaving a small pocket of space underneath. It was into that hollow that Array pushed him, so hard he almost fell. 

“Hide,” Array hissed before Bodhi could protest. “I can keep her from seeing you. Hide.” 

Bodhi knew better than to ask questions. Pointless questions got you killed. He drew himself into the little hollow, the damp earth cold even through his cargo trousers. Being curled up like that reminded him of how he used to have panic attacks and hide under his bunk, an association which did nothing to calm his heart in the here and now. He drew his blaster, clicking a cartridge into place. 

He could see Array, standing stock still. It was as if every cell in his body were alive and waiting. His heart quailed; Array was so exposed like that. But maybe that was the point, a way of issuing a challenge. He could sense it too: something or someone else had found them.

The blur of Array’s lightsaber was so sudden and fast Bodhi could barely follow its arc with his eyes, and it made him slow to pick out the second combatant. A woman, he thought, with dark black skin and hair. She had on a black robe, too, though he couldn’t make out much else; he had to turn away as a shower of colored sparks blazed across his vision.

_A lightsaber? What —_

The certainty hit him square in the chest. A Knight of Ren. It had to be, with the destroyer looming over their heads. He would have thought about it further had the Force not exploded in his head hard enough to knock him out, or would have if he hadn’t held to consciousness with everything in him. He didn’t know how he would possibly be of help but damned if he would miss his chance because he was passed out in the dirt. 

A human. He saw her better on his second look as she and Array traded katas, though his head swam with magic that blurred his perceptions. He understood what Array meant then, about keeping him hidden. He was in a pocket of Force energy, one that said _nothing to see here._ Shaking so hard he could barely keep ahold of his blaster, he willed himself to take two big, gulping breaths. 

He steadied the weapon, drew a bead, and waited. 

* * *

The Dark descended on Array like a flock of blood-hungry crows, just before the woman commanding them rushed at him with murder in her eyes. Just like that his mastery of the Force was as if they were battling on the ridge of a treacherous mountain range, each step the one that could shift under him and doom him to a fate not even magic could help him avoid. 

But he had more agility than she expected. He felt as if he were weaving between sunlight and shadow with every move, falling into the rhythm of his katas, the Temple training, the stolen Vapaad forms (Master Windu shouldn’t have assumed he was too docile to misuse the archive keys), the mastery he’d learned from the kages of the Grey Force.  He countered her slash, knocking her lightsaber to the side and putting her off balance. She was agile herself, though, he had to give her that: she leapt backwards out of his reach before he could follow up with a stab to her exposed ribs. 

By contrast, she powered her swings with a kind of mania, a mad, endless well of energy that made her laugh even as they traded blows. She came at him again, spinning drunkenly around him. It wasn’t a sign of ineptitude. It was a form of lightsaber combat he had never seen put into practice, where one’s seemingly erratic moves were meant to confuse and bewilder the opponent. One moment she crouched like a hunting cat, the next howling and swinging her saber at his face. 

Dimly, he was aware of a jolt of intellectual pleasure: battling with someone who could show him something new thrilled him. He twirled his saber, easily meeting hers. He wondered at that, since she clearly had talent and power with the Force, but as she raised the golden blade - a single sword in contrast to his double-bladed style - he saw part of the answer: it didn’t have a proper kyber crystal. 

But a poorly made saber could still hurt, even kill, and he didn’t allow himself to underestimate her. It was like fighting a plume of incense smoke, terribly difficult to pin down, as changeable as the breeze. Ah, he thought as she swung low, hoping to trip him up. Perhaps the third form, the Wind kata, form of the white crane…the weariness made him slower than he would have liked, but not so slow he would lose to her, surely…

It turned out she didn’t need to beat him in combat. She ran from him, far enough that he experienced a mere second’s flash of confusion. Less than a second, really -

“And who is this?” She asked, her voice strung taut with unholy excitement. He looked over. She had her hand up, and Bodhi on the end of that long Force tether. He was clutching at his neck, the spell tight around it like a slave collar. She simpered at him, daring him to come and take Bodhi from her.

A pure bolt of red, sizzling Darkness arched down into that riven open place inside him. His perception of reality telescoped out and for a moment he was back in that tree outside the Temple, cut apart by Darth Vader’s lightsaber, ready to die as the Temple burned. 

But as he stood on the bare edge of choice, his open mental hand clutching a ball of fire, he stopped. He looked into her before she could stop him, too busy gloating over her prize to properly protect herself. Sloppy. He did as she expected, turning towards Bodhi and raising his hand as if he meant to tear Bodhi forcibly from her grip. 

He felt her satisfaction that he would fall for her gambit, and then her surprise when he whirled on her and rushed at her, saber forgotten, claws out and teeth bared. No longer was this a duel between similarly skilled combatants that, while serious, could have its pleasant aspects. Now it was a hunt. 

As close as he was to the Dark, he savored her sudden fear and surprise like he would have savored a bar of finest chocolate, the kind he used to steal whenever he found himself in a particularly luxurious resort or when knocking over a smuggler’s ship. He swallowed it as it blossomed into one sharp, delicious spike of terror and let it empower him, the Dark so close, swirling just beneath his feet, a thousand voices whispering temptation into his ears. 

She had a second to react and took it, racing into the woods faster than even he could follow; she had the Force to thank for that. He felt the storm cloud of energy she’d brought with her lessen, then disperse fully. She was gone. So was his strength. He barely kept himself levered up on his forearms after dropping out of his hunting stance, digging his claws deep into the earth as if by doing so he could anchor himself to consciousness. 

Screams from many decades past were wraith-like in his head.

He heard an indrawn breath. It rattled like a cacophony in the emptiness his opponent had left behind, though surely it was only a mere whisper. 

_Bodhi._

It was the jolt he needed. He drew recklessly on the Force so determined was he to get up and go to his friend’s side, but Bodhi beat him to it, all but tumbling into his arms as he was still in the process of trying to rise. It brought him back down to his knees and only with Bodhi there in his embrace did he truly realize what the Knight of Ren had tried to do. He started to tremble such that he couldn’t spare the breath to speak. 

* * *

“It’s all right,” Bodhi rasped. A pale murmur was all he could manage after being so cruelly Force-choked, but it needed to be said. He could feel the wisps of Dark magic around Array, and he had to put a stop to that before it grew out of control. “I’m all right.”

Array had tears tracking down his face, and if Bodhi knew him he was keeping a keen of fear and grief inside only through brute application of pure willpower. He let Array hug him just as tightly as Array wanted, knowing his friend wouldn’t hurt him, though his ribs _did_ creak just a little. 

“Array,” he said, knowing that by the way Array felt to him that Array was half-present, and half in the past. “I’m all right, and so are you.”

He put his hand on Array’s muzzle, forcing Array to look at him. Array’s expression was wild, as if he’d been cornered, or more accurately as if a squad of slavers had shown up to force him back into a collar and cuffs. 

“Listen,” Bodhi continued. “You’re here on Belsavis. With me.”  

The flesh around Array’s mouth and the chitinous material of his claws - still unsheathed - looked white, his eyes wide and depthless black. His mouth would have been hanging open if he could have afforded to let the song out with it, but Bodhi knew Array was afraid of what a real keen might do. The spots behind his jaw, where it hinged to his head, looked swollen, and a noticeable tremor was working through his stiff body. He could feel the way Array’s lungs were working overtime, yet Array’s throat was letting in very little actual air. 

Panic. It looked different from the attack a human might have, but Bodhi recognized it immediately. He knew where Array had gone in his mind, back to the Temple on Coruscant. Back to the night that had changed the whole galaxy. The way he sometimes returned to Scarif, himself, in deep dreams that he’d had so often he doubted he would have known himself without them. 

As he spoke, a spark of recognition kindled and Array turned ever so slightly to look at him. 

“Bodhi,” Array whispered, so soft someone less attuned to his every mood and word would have likely missed it. “Gods, Bodhi.” 

“It’s - don’t squeeze me so hard, silly lizard,” Bodhi said, laughing breathlessly as Array practically wrung the breath out of him in a relieved embrace. He returned the affection though he probably made very little impact in comparison, a light and fragile thing compared to his friend. Normally he might have felt worried that the Knight of Ren would use this as a time to launch a second attack, but his tiny scrap of Force sense told him otherwise: she’d moved on. 

 _Array was right,_ he thought. _We aren’t the real target. She has some other goal._

His thoughts were slower than usual, but eventually they coalesced and he said: “why did that work?”

“Why did what work?” Array said, voice as rough as if he’d been Force-choked himself.

“That feint,” Bodhi said, pressing his cheek tight to Array’s and reaching up to stoke Array’s spines. He was in no hurry to keep going on their journey any time soon, and really, who could blame him? “She shouldn’t have fallen for it.”

It was Array’s turn to laugh, but it had no humor in it.

“She thought I would tear you out of her grip by force,” he said. 

“What?”

“Its what she would have done, in my place. Taken back what belonged to her, no matter the cost.” 

Bodhi felt a sudden stab of ill-feeling, squirming in his guts. He could only imagine two Force users playing life or death tug-o-war with his body. Like two children with a raggedy toy. But Array had refused to see him in that light. 

“It didn’t work,” he said before he meant to. 

“No,” Array said, pulling back to look at him dead on. He’d never seen his friend so solemn. “It didn’t."


	8. Nest

“We need to rest,” Bodhi said, knowing Array would be reluctant but would agree if he put his foot down hard enough. He had geared up to be quite firm on the subject, but it was a measure of Array’s weariness that he didn’t protest at all. “Besides, isn’t everyone in the prison in stasis?”

He added, though he realized how tired he was too if he had to ask. It wasn’t like he’d never set foot on Belsavis before. But Array nodded, answering him as if it all made perfect sense. 

“It will take her awhile to free whoever or whatever she’s after, if that’s her goal,” he added, trying to comfort them both by saying it out loud. 

Through his extra-human senses Array had little trouble finding them an abandoned burrow to hide in despite what had to be bone-deep weariness. In fact, he looked perfectly at home in it, insisting on going in first to inspect it. It looked just fine to Bodhi but who knew what a Vor’s standards for hiding spots were? It wasn’t as if Array could explain it, either. He knew only a little more than Bodhi himself did and sometimes did things on instinct, much to Array's annoyance. Array didn’t like it when he didn’t know things, and having one of those things be one’s self particularly grated.  

_Yet it’s the one subject he can’t bring himself to research._

“You look comfortable,” Bodhi teased from the entrance. Array snorted at him, and his friend looked so much like a dragon about to curl up on its hoard he half expected smoke to come from Array’s nares.

“Vor live in burrows like this,” Array told him, coming back out on all fours. “Or I suppose they do, outside of the city. This is a fine enough, er. Resting spot.” He continued, standing, though clearly he wanted to call it something else. Before Bodhi could interrogate him about it further, he said, “I’m going to find food. Don’t leave, or she’ll have a much easier time finding you if she comes back this way. Oh, and take this.”

Array shrugged out of his coat and handed it over. Bodhi shook his head, planting his feet as he prepared to argue. He took the coat, but only just, holding it out by his fingertips. 

“Are you mad? It’s freezing out here.”

“Not to me,” Array said, and Bodhi had to grudgingly admit the weather had gotten a bit warmer since they’d started to see real plants and flowering trees. “Take it.” 

It wasn’t a demand - he couldn’t recall Array ever truly _demanding_ anything from him - but the suggestion was strong enough that he gave in with a sigh, holding the coat to his chest. The planet was still cold for him, true. He didn’t have the advantage of being a walking furnace, or a thick lizard’s hide to protect him. 

He had the distinct sense in that moment that Array wasn’t looking at him on purpose, and he wondered what he’d done wrong. He mumbled a thank you and retreated into the den. Had he acted stupid with the Knight of Ren? He hadn’t even known she could sense him until she’d dragged him out via the Force, and after it all Array had seemed anything but annoyed or angry with him. So what…?

“I’ll bring food,” Array said again, and though Bodhi was no Vor himself and had no ear for those subtleties he couldn’t detect any negative feelings in the words or tone either. But surely he’d done _something…_

Eventually he dozed off curled up under Array’s coat, pitifully grateful for the relatively warm earth under him and the dim interior of their hideaway. It was easy to imagine Vor families in a place not so unlike this, though he wondered what Vortex was like if whole groups of Vor needed to maximize their body heat so. Frozen tundra made the most sense, he thought, and he wondered if Array could remember any such thing. Perhaps he hadn’t liked the reminder and that could explain things earlier, the way his mood seemed off. It made Bodhi feel better, and he fell into a deep sleep. 

He had no idea how long it had been when Array crept in to nose him awake. He could smell flash-cooked meat, something Array had made for him quickly so that any cooking fire couldn’t be detected. He mumbled something that was supposed to be a thank you but by Array’s chuckle he’d mangled the actual words. 

“Eat,” Array said soft into his ear, and he sat up to do just that. Array had curled up next to him, already purring a low rumbling purr. He’d never quite heard Array purr like that. Relief, maybe. Gods, after a conflict like they’d had with their enemy out there, he felt desperate relief himself. 

Only when he thought about it then did he realize, truly, how close to death he’d come. That old pain behind his eye started to throb and his mouth went so dry with quiet terror he could no longer imagine swallowing food. The agony of a cluster headache defied description, and he couldn’t afford a session of screaming and crying fit to bring the entire First Order down on them. 

Array pushed into his space, curling up around him instead of just nearby. He looked at his friend in surprise; Array was affectionate and liked physical contact to a certain point. This was noticeably beyond the usual, and he wasn’t hesitant or awkward about it either as he had been the few times such had been needed (often during one of those cluster headaches. Bodhi recalled Array’s claws scraping carefully against his scalp and down his back; sometimes that kind of sensation was the only thing that provided any relief, as if pain had to be answered with pain). The dragon comparison came back, except he strongly suspected if there was any hoard of treasure in this den, _he_ was it. 

Array fell asleep before Bodhi could come up with anything to say, and the headache went away before it even got started. 

* * *

Bodhi woke warmer than he’d been in days, his mind slow to catch up to his situation considering he’d been craving such comfort for longer than he usually had to since retiring. But he wasn’t retired anymore, was he? 

He blinked, slowly becoming aware of the weight of blankets. No, not blankets. It was a pile of clothing, tucked tight around him. Array’s jacket and robe, his own coat; he must have shucked it at some point in the night. Array’s wing was over him too, such that he had to wriggle upwards a little to see over it and take in his surroundings. 

Oh. The burrow. He felt like a hare safe at home after a long run, his racing heart gentled by the relative comfort of the crudely dug walls. He sighed and relaxed back against Array, who was still out to the point where the only movements were involuntary twitches. He felt almost too hot to the touch. Maybe that was why Array had given up on clothes; Bodhi thought if he didn’t have a couple of layers of undershirt between him and his friend, Array’s scales might have left a faint mark against his skin. 

He noted the weird assortment of objects that had made it back home with Array during whatever he’d hunted up for food, feathers and petals and coins. They’d been scattered around haphazardly and Bodhi wondered if Array had fallen asleep too quickly to make much order out of them, and then remembered what had almost turned into a cluster headache and how Array had fallen into slumber almost directly thereafter. 

For the first time he wondered if Array had circumvented the attack with the Force. The last time he hadn’t been so skilled a healer and couldn’t have banished them completely; the brain was beastly difficult to change without doing lasting harm. But now? After what he’d done with Finn? Of course true to form Array had just never mentioned becoming that competent, as if it were rude to boast. 

Hunger made him carefully slip out of Array’s hold, something he surely wouldn’t have gotten away with if Array weren’t so utterly exhausted. Those odd objects hadn’t just been scattered around; he found he was lying on top of a scattering of feathers, as if they’d been carefully tucked in around him. He touched a shiny gold coin that had been left near his head, rubbing his fingers over the engraving. It depicted a crane standing in the middle of an open lotus flower, but it hadn’t been stamped. He turned it over, then over again. Someone had carved it by hand, and he resolved to make Array give this one back to Jess. it clearly had sentimental value.

He put the coin in his pocket and went in search of food. This time Array had indeed caught some sort of bird; Bodhi saw its carcass when he moved towards the burrow’s entrance. It was a sleek creature with long, black legs, spayed claws, and a narrow head. Its wings had opened, nerveless, and its plucked body had been charred swiftly over a quick fire. Maybe that explained the feathers, then. It didn’t have much meat on it, but what it did have was so succulent Bodhi found himself biting his lip to keep sounds of appreciation muffled. 

All the moreso when he saw the berries and mushrooms neatly piled up nearby. He felt guilt twist around in his guts; Array shouldn’t have bothered when Array was already so tired. Still, he found himself greedily eating the delights anyway, knowing that Array would have eaten on his way to and from the hunt so at least he wasn’t stealing food right from his friend’s claws. 

So involved was he that he almost didn’t hear Array stir, but a little surprised hiss caught his attention after all. 

“Something wrong?” He asked, licking sweet, dark berry juice from his fingers. 

“No,” Array said automatically, as he often did when asked about his state of being. “I…maybe. I don’t know.” 

He turned in time to see Array curled up so he could scratch at his head with his back foot, like one of the dogs would when the weather was too wet or too dry. Array made a grumbly noise and rubbed his muzzle against the packed dirt floor, as if he had an itch that even his claws couldn’t satisfy. 

“What’s the matter? Weather getting to you?”

He felt alarmed of course, but then he usually did. He tried to keep it as even as he could; no need to panic. Stars knew all the little irritations different planets could cause if you weren’t already acclimated to their environments. 

“It doesn’t feel blazing hot to you?” Array wanted to know, crawling for the entrance like he’d been on the world’s worst bender. “Ugh.”

He dragged his belly too, maybe trying to get the same kind of relief from the scrape of the floor as he was hoping for with his head. Bodhi got up to follow, watching Array all but collapse in the wet, cold grass out of sheer relief. _Now_ he was worried, and he came over to carefully look Array over, or at least his back and tail. There were all kinds of concerns when you had scales, not least of which were mites that could burrow between them and bite and bleed their victim half out of their mind, but he saw nothing of the sort. 

Array calmed at being inspected, at least, though he took on a quiet alert quality as if he were scanning the surrounding forest over and over again. Bodhi stretched out and draped himself over Array’s back and shoulder, at such an angle that he could reach the curve of Array’s jaw. He worked his nails in and scratched at the scales there, until Array was all but boneless and purring fit to make the ground under them vibrate. 

“Better?” He asked, on alert himself for the return of their enemy from the night before. But there was nothing. Whatever waited, it was ahead. 

“Yes,” Array mumbled. “Would you bring my things? We should go.” 

“I will,” Bodhi said, standing and brushing at his clothes before realizing that he was soaking wet from early morning dew and wouldn’t be changing that fact any time soon. Something caught him before he left and he said, “why did you leave all the feathers and coins and things?” 

“What?” Array said, distracted, still pawing a little at his face. 

“Did you — Nevermind. I’ll be right back.” 

 

* * *

Array had experienced many sensations in his long, strange life, including hate, agony, frustration, euphoria, even joy, joy in flashes so brief and so bright he had felt like a being staring at the aftermath of a lightning strike. As bright as the feathers that made up the wings of his first rescuer, his Aryou friend with plumage like the blazing sky who’d come to crack the lock on his cage and pop open the hinges on his collar. 

But this? When he tried to describe it to himself, to give it some name by which he could consider and perhaps overcome it, he thought first of the flame in his soul when he’d earned being a vornskr master, a Fire sage. Many called the style of lightsaber combat that went with it Vapaad - the style he’d stolen from Master Windu - the refinement of an ancient tradition, but he had done it all backwards, seeking out the way of the vornskr on the living planet long after he’d practiced the Jedi forms over and over until he could do it with no thought or effort. 

_Backwards. At least I’m on brand there._

This…whatever it was felt as primal as his connection to the Force, but where that felt mystical, this was all physical. _Instinctual_ , maybe, and _that_ scared him witless. He had fairly good control over himself, but…even the fabric of his robe, when he remembered to tug it on, felt awful against his skin. He’d wondered if it were some kind of sickness while he’d spent that time lying helpless in the grass, but he knew that wasn’t it. 

Another round of itching started and he tried not to paw at his face like a dog again - _embarrassing -_ but it was a near thing. Bodhi came out of the nest - _nest?_ what kind of insane thought was _that? -_ looking concerned, in that way that made his eyes look particularly arresting. 

The fact that he was staring at Bodhi made him realize too slowly that Bodhi had his crane coin in hand. Something about the way it glittered there made Array feel sudden dread. 

_Oh no._

It _was_ some Vor instinct, something his parents living their comfortable lives in the fancy city would never had admitted to or acknowledged. And he had a sinking feeling that said instinct had to do with mating. As if to underscore his worst fears, a line of warmth started just under his jaw and pulsed into his belly, a sensation that made him suddenly _very_ glad he had two layers of thick clothing on. 

“Are you all right?” Bodhi asked. He managed a noncommittal squeak in response. Bodhi frowned, looking down at him while he sat there in the grass like an idiot, but he couldn’t quite make himself move. “Why did you take this from Jess?”

Bodhi said, flipping the coin. 

“From _Jess?”_ He blurted, the memory of putting feathers and coins and gods knew what around Bodhi like gifts from a spring-addled bowerbird making him feel perhaps the most mortified he’d ever felt in a life full of embarrassing moments. “It’s not Jess.’ It’s mine.” 

_Good job, stupid lizard. You could have blamed it on Jess. She wouldn’t have minded._

“It is?” Bodhi asked, crouching down to look at him. Bodhi didn’t realize it much of the time, but he had a way of looking _through_ the being in front of him. It was made even more true when Bodhi was trying to work something out, or asking that being something important. It was a look that made it impossible for even him, the Force master, to do anything but return it. 

“It is. My Master gave it to me, back at the Temple.” He admitted, trying not to fidget. He’d picked up the nervous tic like he did many things, like a magpie with an eye only for habits that would go on to give him away or embarrass him later. 

“Oh,” Bodhi said, reaching out to give it back to him. He had that guilty expression he got when he felt he didn’t deserve something. It used to be he would look like that over even taking up the space most beings would have accorded themselves without thinking. He’d gotten better, sometimes, but gifts were still difficult. 

“No. I meant to give it to you.” 

Regardless of his embarrassment, the instincts he didn’t truly understand, the feelings he often ignored, denied, and reasoned away, he wasn’t about to take back a gift. Not one he’d given Bodhi, the person his entire life revolved around. He wondered if the others were confused as to why he, a Force adept of some talent, had decided to spend his life quietly on a planet no one knew about, tending garden beds and knitting blankets and drinking tea. 

Taking care of Bodhi had given his life the most meaning. Not the Temple, not Vortex. Not the Force, or his studies. Not even the adventures he’d been on. If it hadn’t been for Poe, Jess, and Zawati, he would have never left. 

He reminded himself that this was all futile anyway. Bodhi had never gotten over Jon - not to mention whoever had come before that, who Bodhi still wouldn’t speak about - and he was also very aware that he himself wasn’t human and all evidence in where Bodhi’s preferences lay told him how far _that_ would have gone . Things he’d told himself thousands of times. 

“Let’s go,” he said, gruffer than he meant. He watched Bodhi’s brow crease in confusion and maybe even hurt, and he silently called himself several choice things as he managed to lever himself to his feet. Afraid to make it worse, he said nothing as they pushed on into the jungle. 

And yet…Bodhi kept the coin. 


	9. Contrast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Array and Bodhi find The Tomb, and Jess and Zawati put their plan into motion

Jess found the First Order camp that evening, Zawati behind her cloaked in shadow so that no mere human could have discovered her. She was depleted, true, but still skilled far beyond the average person when it came to the Force.

“I sense no Force adept,” Zawati whispered. “If one has come to Belsavis, they are no longer on the ship or in the camp.” 

“Great, so we should be golden,” Jess said, hiding in the trees a moment longer. She made sure her disguise had come together properly, her hands and feet dirty, hair disheveled. She had grab marks on her wrists and neck thanks to Zawati. It had started as a way to add authenticity to her story of being a captive but it had ended in a way that had made her late for her appointment with the First Order. 

She watched the camp, buzzing with activity. The First Order could set themselves up with remarkable efficiency, she had to give them that. They already had tents, tables, water, recon stations. Anything a small but capable fighting force could need. But there were other items that she couldn’t make sense of yet, like handheld stasis field generators. They wouldn’t be strong enough to do much of anything on their own, but a small group of stormtroppers equipped with them would be enough to keep someone or something subdued for a time. 

So, they had come not with the intention of bringing something here - beyond the Force user they’d had with them - but with the intention of taking something or someone out. 

She waited until just after mess, watching the troops eat nutri-loaf mechanically as if each movement had been planned and then repeated until it became ingrained. Fork down in the right side of the loaf, brought up to the mouth after a count of two, repeat. Wash it all down with one swallow of water. Everyone had the exact same portion of both food and drink, the exact same utensils in the same positions. 

She felt a creeping sensation on her arms and neck; they might as well have been droids.

But they weren’t, and she figured no matter their training they’d be dumber after a meal, full stomachs and their helms still off. They had full enough bellies, and they didn’t have their usual protection, Maybe they’d look over any holes in her story. She steadied herself, then let out a blood-curdling scream as she stumbled from the tree line. 

* * *

 

“That’s it,” Array said, breaking the silence that they’d enjoyed for the past several hours. They’d gone from stories to songs to quiet and back again many times during their journey through the forest, so simply done after so many years. 

“I don’t see it yet,” Bodhi said, a not uncommon truth, what with Array’s generally sharper senses. He often found himself wandering about like an idiot without the benefit of the things Array picked up without even trying. 

“I smell it,” Array said, his muzzle crinkling up in an expression of distaste. “Like cheap boot leather and ozone.” 

“Yes…sounds like a prison,” Bodhi agreed, and for the first time the reality of where they were going sunk in. He felt a deep unease, but besides that he worried for Array. Array had been in a prison of sorts before - a zoo more accurately - leashed and manacled for the enjoyment of the sorts of people who frequented amoral drug dens and shady whorehouses. 

“Are you — “

Array turned as if he were about to snap, his expression a snarl now instead of the sour look he’d had a moment before. But then he paused, stared for a long moment, and shook his head as if coming out of a trance. Bodhi held as still as he could, despite his instincts screaming at him to at the very least back up out of strike distance. 

“I…yes. I’m all right. I mean, no. But I will be. Let’s just make sure we leave again. Quickly.” 

“I think we can manage that,” Bodhi said, the adrenaline draining away as quickly as it had come. He closed what little distance there was between them and touched Array’s arm, offering his friend a tremulous smile. The barest thread of Darkness unraveled at the contact, making Array blink and look at him in shock. 

“Maybe I do something for you after all,” Bodhi said. He had lamented on more than one occasion about all the support Array gave him, unstintingly, when he felt he had nothing to afford his friend in return. But apparently that wasn’t strictly true, if he could banish those little Dark tendrils so. 

“You do plenty for me,” Array said without hesitating. “More than you realize.” 

He could think of absolutely nothing to say to that, too pleasantly embarrassed to come up with a response. Let alone a halfway clever one, that wouldn’t have left him standing there as if he hadn’t been bantering with Array for decades. But this wasn’t the same as their usual exchanges. 

Array looked away as though it cost effort to do so. 

“Come on,” Array said, marching towards the prison as resolutely as he could manage. Only then did Bodhi let his hand fall away, studying his palm for a moment as if he could see some evidence of the Darkness he’d touched (of course there was nothing, and he felt foolish for looking). He followed in Array’s stride, scanning and rescanning the horizon. Something started to feel wrong almost immediately, but it wasn’t until the actual compound came into view that he recognized it: his Force sensitivity had guttered and gone out like a candle flame on the last bit of wick. 

He reached for the coin in his pocket, running the pad of his finger over the crane engraving. He realized then that usually a little vibration of Force could be felt in the metal; now there was nothing. 

“Array….”

“Feel that, do you?” Array whispered, cutting sharply to the left and back into the tree line. Bodhi followed, his nerves jangling with anxiety. “Something in there is dampening the Force. I can still touch it, but hardly wield it.”

“I suppose we’ve found what the Knight of Ren is here for,” Bodhi said, following behind Array with his shoulders taut with tension. He had to keep his focus on his steps, lest he stumble; he had a tendency to get shaky when he was nervous. That tendency had kept him out of a TIE’s pilot chair on more than one occasion, another failed exam and another reason to feel humiliated and ashamed. 

“I’m afraid you’re right,” Array allowed, going from standing on his back feet to all fours to belly down in the grass with a fluidity of movement Bodhi never could have matched with his human form. 

“What can even do that?” Bodhi wanted to know, getting down gracelessly next to Array, watching the prison from their relatively hidden vantage point. Nothing stirred within. Nothing he could see, anyway. They were only glimpsing the smallest part however, a featureless dull bronze wall jutting out from the wild growth of the temperate jungle. He knew the prison had to be massive, a squat, intimidating structure that telegraphed its purpose clearly through its intimidating lines and joyless features.

“The only thing I know of is the ysalimiri, the prey of the vornskr.”

“Huh?” Bodhi asked, listening but so anxious he was having trouble taking in the words and concepts.

“Fuzzy reptile-like things that grow bonded to a particular tree with which they develop a kind of symbiosis. They developed pockets of null Force to protect themselves; the vornskr hunt with the Force to guide them. But I doubt they’re keeping a pack of those in there. They’re hard - almost impossible - to harvest, tough to care for…possible perhaps if they had a very deadly Force user to contain, but it is my understanding that they use stasis fields for that purpose. Only someone as powerful as the Emperor could really control people even in a trance, and at that point you’re kriffed anyway.” 

Array worried the tip of one of his claws between his teeth, as he tended to do when deep in thought or when he was about to info-dump about something. Or, most distressingly for some, both. 

“The Order based a form of lightsaber combat on it,” Array continued, with that faraway look he got when ordering and rifling through all the archives he had stored in his mind. “I’m not bad at it.” 

Bodhi rolled his eyes, albeit fondly; “I’m not bad at it” meant Array was a genius at it. 

“So what? Do we just go in the front door?” Bodhi asked. 

“I suppose we could start there.” Array allowed. His tongue flicked out, and he made a considering noise when he drew it back into his mouth. “She’s here, and recently.” 

The Knight of Ren. Bodhi flashed back to the events of only a day or two previous, where for one terrifying moment he’d imagined being fought over by two Force users like an akk-dog toy. Gods and stars, what could he even do to be of help in this scenario? If the Knight could somehow be defeated by all the details of every starfighter commissioned in the past three decades, maybe. 

He made himself stop, with all the effort and ugliness of trying to stop a cart full of kyber with only his brute strength which, to be fair to him, was never that impressive. He took two deep breaths, and tried to envision some of his tension melting away into the grass. The few times he’d gone to a mind healer, they’d said some half-remembered platitude about re-framing his stress. He’d been furious at such idiotic advice, until of course he’d had another panic attack, one that had him desperately clutching at something, anything, including cycling through imagery intended to free him from the confines of his own brain. 

“Just leave the lightsaber combat to me,” Array said, as if reading his mind. Hells, maybe he was. “You’ll be more help than you think.” 

“I…never knew I could do that, really. Making the Dark Side, I don’t know. Less. “ 

“We haven’t ventured off our planet in a long time,” Array pointed out, still studying the prison. “Sometimes you can’t see something until it is perceived in contrast to something else.” 

He took the meaning. Alone together they had no reason to question whatever had passed between them. But on different planets and around other people, much was becoming apparent. 

They took their time going around the outer edge of the compound, a process that took the better part of an hour. Only when they’d gone almost halfway on the left side did they see the signs of conflict. A hole had been blasted into the wall, with what had to have been some serious ordnance. Broken droids were still laying scattered around, their hammerhead faces smashed in, their control arms - the one with stun batons and other security measures installed - snapped. 

“That’s a B4J4 security droid,” he said, making Array turn and look at him with a curious expression on his muzzle. “It was common back in Old Republic days, well, at least it was among the rich.”

Array might know many things beyond Bodhi’s reach, but when it came to droids, communication, and ships, Bodhi could call himself the expert for once. 

“Yes,” Array said slowly. “This prison was constructed long before all that, but the Republic claimed it in recent memory. They….You know what, nevermind.” 

“What?” Bodhi said, instantly suspicious. “What is it?” 

“They kept more than one Sith Lord here,” Array said, already cringing. Bodhi felt panic crawl up his throat, as if his heart had taken human shape and was trying to bodily drag itself free. “And the Sith took exception to that. There was more than one conflict where they came to free their own. I…don’t know the outcome of all of those battles.”

“So. There could be a Sith Lord in there. Or ten.” Bodhi said flatly, trying his damndest to take the news as calmly as possible. 

“Well…yes. We did know it was a prison for the most powerful,” Array pointed out. The logic didn’t make Bodhi feel any better. “And there must be someone at least that valuable inside, for a Knight of Ren to bother.” 

“We’re kriffed if you can’t use the Force,” Bodhi said, already feeling as if they’d lost. 

“That’s not true,” Array said immediately. “There are other ways to be effective, even against a Sith or a Knight. Don’t sell us so short before we’ve gone inside.” 

“All right, all right,” Bodhi said, hiding his face in the grass for a moment. “I’ll do my best,” he mumbled. He felt Array’s hand on his hair, so gentle that he looked up again. 

“Listen,” Array told him, as if they were two children in a blanket fort instead of two ill-equipped adults staring down an almost insurmountable task. “You know I won’t let anything happen to you.” 

He did know. But that was its own kind of dread; Array didn’t often deal in half measures. Especially not when it came to looking out for him. He feared what a Knight of Ren could do, what Array would feel obligated to stand against. But there was nothing to be said to change their course, so he just nodded.

Array got up and made his way cautiously to the blown open section of the wall. Bodhi followed, and now that he was standing in a relatively open area he could see more about the prison. And feel more, too; the place loomed over them, as if it had its own malevolent sentience. 

As he neared the unconventional entrance, he studied the droid corpses in greater detail. An old model, as old as the Scarif mission, maybe even as old as the Empire. Whatever had taken place here, it had been decades long past as the rusty bolts and outdated baton design readily communicated. Yet, no one had come to clean up the mess. Either the prison no longer had caretakers, or those caretakers were in dire enough straits that they couldn’t make critical repairs. 

“I don’t like this,” he said. Or tried to say, as fear had reduced his voice to a bare whisper. But Array heard him, could hear things much less audible than the evidence of his essential cowardice. 

“Nor do I,” Array grumbled. “But what choice do we have?”

“This has gotten a lot bigger than finding food and water,” Bodhi said, wrapping his arms around himself. The gesture made him remember the few supplies he had strapped to his body, but they did little to comfort him.

“If I can’t use the Force much, she can’t either,” Array pointed out. Bodhi half expected him to keep forging ahead into the dark interior before them, but instead he turned and their eyes met. Array cocked his head and said, “I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to go in. I can find you another hiding place, and then scout it myself.” 

Part of him felt horrible relief at such a suggestion, and he longed to take the offer. All the times he’d barely escaped from a bad situation with his life flashed before his mind’s eye, and his battered soul cried out in the hopes that he wouldn’t walk face first into another one. Would he escape with his hearing this time? His limbs? His mind?

“No,” he said, trying not to look like a mewling child in front of Array, who seemed, if not fearless, at least appropriately stalwart. “You’re going. You have just as much reason to fear the place as I do.” 

Array didn’t say anything for a long moment, and Bodhi worried his friend was trying to come up with a gentle way of telling him he _had_ to stay behind. That he was really a burden who shouldn’t have gone on this journey in the first place.

Instead, Array wordlessly offered his hand. 

It was his bad hand, the fingers crooked in a little too much for comfort, the tendons stiff against his skin. Bodhi studied it for a moment, then looked up. Array was watching him, of course, his eyes gold and his expression earnest. He’d offered that hand on purpose, Bodhi realized, and Bodhi took it as gently as he could manage. 

They stepped into the darkness of the prison like that, disappearing into the shadows hand in hand.


	10. Subtleties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jess and Zawati get a less than comfortable tour through the star destroyer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some colonialist language

“Please,” Jess all but wailed as she stumbled into the camp, falling limp into the nearest officer’s arms. “I thought I would never escape those savages.” 

The man caught her without thinking, and Jess spared a moment to be impressed by his strength as he held her more or less on her feet. She clung to his broad shoulders, letting him get a full view of her wild, terrified expression. 

“Easy civilian.” he said. “Tell me what happened to you.” He looked away a moment. “Fetch a blanket and some water for her, at least.” 

Jess chose to take his inclination to help as a good sign, not sure what could be attributed to Zawati’s meddling and what was just this man’s personality. She supposed not everyone in the First Order shared Snoke’s cruelty. 

She heard quick feet and rustling uniforms as several helpers leapt to obey. She took the moment’s distraction to polish her best helpless waif look, turning the full force of it on the officer when he turned his attention back to her. His eyes flickered; she had him. For the moment, anyway. 

He steered her to the nearest mess table and sat her on the bench. She went without protest, of course, sure to emulate the floppy limbs and bowed head common in abject panic. When the water arrived, brought by a stormtrooper made anonymous by their helmet, she guzzled it as though she hadn’t had a proper drink in days. 

“Don’t worry,” the officer told her. She caught sight of him for real this time; pretending to panic hadn’t afforded her much opportunity before, even staring into his face. He was good looking, in that severe, stoic way of the First Order. He had dark hair in a regimented cut close to his scalp, though it had started to grow out and he had the facial stubble to indicate it had been awhile, too. His eyes were dark to match, ones that would have been as soulful and expressive as Bodhi’s if this man had lived a different life. Instead they were flinty, reserved. And, unfortunately, hard to read. “Where are you from?”

“R…Rattatak,” she stammered, thinking of the last story Zizi had told her. “Pirates took me and my family…I..I don’t think they made it.” 

She said, having no trouble making her lower lip tremble appropriately, her eyes welling up with real tears as she thought of Coralis’ cries of agony. 

The officer went so far as to pat her hand. 

“Afraid we can’t go back to Rattatak,” he said, “but we can take you with us. Do you have any useful skills?” 

Interesting. He offered genuine concern, but it came at a price. The Resistance would have taken her in with no regard to how useful she could be to the cause. 

“I…I can clean. I know a few things about engines; my brother was a ship mechanic. I’d say I can cook but…you would know the truth pretty quick.” 

It made him smile.

_Score one: Jessika Pava._

“If you pass our scans, we will happily take you aboard,” he said. “In the meantime, just rest.” 

She’d expected the scans, of course. She still felt an arctic finger run down her spine at the thought, but she put her faith in Zawati’s ability to cloud the truth, and in her ability to lie. She didn’t protest, only nodded meekly at her benefactor. He left, disappearing back into the tent assigned him. She could tell since it had the most Empire gewgaws all over it. 

_Probably has a mountain of paperwork to do._

If you weren’t at the top, First Order life must bore people to death on the regular. The average general or stormtrooper probably had never even laid eyes on the people she and her friends were most familiar with. Kylo Ren’s Force mastery and Hux’s scheming were probably just tales to these people. 

* * *

 

When they finally ushered her into one of the shuttles, she made sure to bow her shoulders and hang her head. She finely crafted her fear, adding the subtleties that signaled it was directed at her fictional captors instead of the First Order goons guiding her along. Every time one of them caught her eye, she let her body go ever so slightly limp, as if from relief. 

They bid her sit in a big metal chair, and she almost balked as she thought of the way Poe had been strapped down on the Finalizer. She managed not to, thank the stars, and she sat primly and without protest. 

For one seemingly endless moment she felt alone and unprepared. She knew they wouldn’t come up with anything when they tried to identify her; she hadn’t exactly had the time or resources to craft a whole new person, and she couldn’t risk using any of her other identities. Most of them were criminals. Not exactly the kind of thing that would work here. 

“Full name?” 

A stormtrooper to her left asked, a tablet and a stylus in his armored hands. 

“Tarakat Medlow,” she whispered. She let herself show some of how intimidated she felt then, glancing around at the featureless room. “I was taken by pirates…they scrub their captives from the extranet.” 

“It’s all right,” the stormtrooper said. He sounded like a standard human male, though one could never know just from the voice. “If that’s the case, it will come back with a cultural note.” 

“A cultural note?”

“Mm,” he agreed, still fiddling with the tablet. “Whatever might be relevant to our goals.”

Jess realized he meant facts and beliefs that would make it easier for the First Order to conquer a planet and only Zawati’s sudden Force touch kept her from gagging. She wanted to pant like an animal, her relief felt that real and that instinctual. Knowing Zizi was there calmed her in a way nothing else could have.  

The trooper scrolled through his datapad, too disciplined to mumble to himself even though Jess imagined he probably would have liked to. Already the environment aboard the destroyer felt alien, sterile. A Resistance official would have run his hand through his hair, or read aloud, probably would have cracked some jokes to keep her at ease. 

She glanced down at the floor, scrubbed to a mirror-bright finish. She could discern her own face there, but it looked strange, distorted, as if her disguise was so complete even she didn’t fully recognize herself

 _Stars, that’s what they had Finn doing. Crawling around on his hands and knees scrubbing every single tile_. 

The destroyer might seem like a bastion of order, but she knew what work like that deserved to be called, at best: drudgery. The kind that kept someone from thinking too hard about the inconsistencies and torments inherent in their existence. 

“Says here Rattatak has been dealing with pilots for a long time,” the trooper finally said. She wondered if she heard the barest sympathy in his tone, or if she were just wishing and hoping he could feel such a thing. 

She sniffled and passed her sleeve over her eyes, nodding. 

“All right. I apologize, but we will have to put you in the brig while we sort all this out. Since you have no identification.”

“The brig?” She blurted, sounding scandalized the way she imagined an innocent person would sound; she’d never been innocent in any way so all she could do was try to imitate it. 

“Just a precaution. You won’t be in with anyone else.”

She realized that this was their way of observing her, to see if her behavior was consistent with her story even when alone. Timidly, she shrunk in on herself, acquiescing through silence. 

She got up the same way when two more troopers showed up to lead her to her cell, walking behind her in perfect formation with their rifles balanced across their chest plates. 

The rest of the destroyer’s main floor was just like her cell, meticulously polished and cleaned, with formations of troopers and officers moving down well worn patrol paths. Quickly she assessed what she could.

_Its gotta be based on the Victory, or they couldn’t have brought it into atmo. Hangar is probably to the right, close to the nose. Officer’s quarters right above the detention center. About four thousand crew all told._

Just in case she covered her thoughts with the most inane things she could come up with, like jingles and generic memories from her supposed childhood on Rattatak, things she liked to have for breakfast, favorite colors. They shouldn’t have a force user aboard, but who could know what sort of traps might be lying in wait for the unwary? 

The cell wasn’t half bad. She’d been in worse places. At least it had a bunk and a toilet, though no concession to privacy whatsoever. Once she was locked in behind the forcefield, the troopers who had escorted her left without speaking. She couldn’t suppress a shiver; they’d been trained that way, raised to be robotic. 

She tried not to think about the lives they’d been stolen from, but a sob pushed its way free anyhow. At least it was consistent with her cover. 

Zizi showed halfway through Jess changing her clothes, making a show of attempted modesty as she did so. She couldn’t let her persona slip for even a second. She had to summon up all her willpower to keep from overreacting to her lover’s sudden presence. 

She stood just outside the forcefield but Jess could barely see her. She flickered in and out, half her face obscured in shadow one moment, hidden in a wavering overhead bulb the next. She wondered at the power and prowess it had taken Zizi to get past all the security, both human and electronic. 

“Can’t stay long,” Zizi said in an uncharacteristic rush. “We’ll want to find dead zones when they let you out, little pockets that aren’t covered by the cameras. I’ll manipulate their minds as much as I can so they don’t keep you in there for long, but I must be subtle.” 

Jess, of course, couldn’t reply without looking suspicious to whoever or whatever was watching, so she made a show of studying the barrier instead as if she were afraid it might shock her were she to get too close to it. Things someone inexperienced at being in prison might think about. 

Zizi turned to leave, but paused.

“I love you,” she said. Before Jess could react, she was gone. 


	11. Eldritch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a race to see who can take control of the Force-eating entity lurking below

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for the kudos. I got one the other day and nearly cried. it means so much. I hope you enjoy this chapter too. <3

 

_You're broken down and tired_  
_Of living life on a merry go round_  
_And you can't find the fighter_  
_But I see it in you so we gonna walk it out_  
_And move mountains_  
_We gonna walk it out_  
_And move mountains_

 

_\--Rise Up, Andra Day_

* * *

 

The prison was no better on the inside. Shrouded in shadow, the utilitarian edges and curves looked vaguely menacing, as if a compliment of prison guards armed to the teeth were about to pour out and fill the two of them full of bullets like those old slug throwers you could still find at certain corners of known space.

But nothing happened when they stepped inside. Bodhi looked down at his feet, expecting an electric shock from the grated floor.

Nothing. 

Cell doors lined the gangplank they’d found themselves on; the prison went down deep into the earth, the staircase spiraling downwards until he couldn’t see the last levels at all. More and more cells, then. Hundreds, at least. He shivered; would they all be full of skeletons? Had the stasis fields failed with time? 

Array’s hand on his shoulder jolted him back to the moment. Array was looking down at him, his big eyes full of concern. He wondered if Array knew how graceful he looked, despite his bulk. The thought made him take a little too long to answer the unspoken question, quietly taking in the details of Array’s face. 

“I’m fine,” Bodhi whispered. He didn’t want to speak at a normal volume, not in a place that had very much earned the name The Tomb. “Is she…?”

“The Knight of Ren?” Array asked, letting him go and walking down the ramp towards the first cell bank. “Oh, she’s here. Doing a good job hiding herself, but I can sense her presence. Just a tiny bit.” 

Bodhi passed by the first cell and couldn’t keep from looking in. It was nothing like a cell for people who were expected to be up and moving. There were no toilet facilities, no bed. Just pods, behind force fields as an extra security measure. Only the faint lights on the pod’s control panels served to illuminate the darkness and then only just. 

He put his hand on the back of Array’s robe, fretting over being separated even though the shadowy interior hadn’t completely stolen his vision. His hand slipped down to Array’s belt, and he hooked his fingers under it for extra security. 

Array conjured up a little ball of energy, but whatever was draining the Force away had exponentially increased once they’d come inside; it was barely a light. Still, he focused on it to keep his rising panic in check, the sense that they were woefully underprepared squirming over him as if he’d been trapped in a container full of venomous snakes. 

After a few solid minutes of walking they found the heart of the Tomb, a massive panopticon welded to the ceiling. So, they must have had some prisoners who hadn’t warranted a stasis pod, though just watching over the stasis fields must have been a real nail-biter in and of itself.

There were bones strewn on the walkway, another marker of the battles that had been fought here. 

“If there’s a communications station, it’s a safe wager that it’s in there,” Bodhi said, gazing up and up still farther until he had a crick in his neck. Array shifted from foot to foot, a sign he felt nervous himself. Easy to see why. This definitely felt too easy, even for all the grim designs around them. 

He put his foot out, intending to walk over to the panopticon. But between one millisecond and the next, the Knight of Ren just…appeared, as if she had stepped out of a pocket in reality. This time, Bodhi was right in front of her and got a better look. She had very dark skin, dark eyes with a spark of yellow in the center, and a mane of black hair worn loose down her back. Her robes were black as well, making her look like a living shadow. She grinned, positively delighted, it seemed, to see him. 

“Hello Bodhi Rook,” she said, and he felt her trying to crack his mind open like an egg. His eye started to throb with that old agony, and he found he couldn’t move. A moan of helplessness and terror got past his lips but that was all., even though he tried to summon up whatever would help him wriggle out of the invisible bonds holding him immobile. It had all happened so _fast…_

He heard Array’s footsteps rushing across the bridge. Array barreled into the Knight, knocking her flat. It was enough, and the connection split and then fell away. He dropped to his knees, clutching his head. 

_What if she can tell I have cluster headaches? What if she can cause them?_

The thought was so terrifying he forced himself to his feet, trying to get some modicum of self-control back. Array had the Knight pinned and was snapping at her face. Bodhi could see what was about to happen and he shouted a wordless warning. But Array was faster,  rolling to the side before the Knight could put her ‘saber through his chest. 

He wasn’t fast enough to get up though, too, and he had to bring his saber to life to guard against her; she rained blows down on him, the yellow blade in her hand spitting sparks as it connected with Array’s weapon. 

“Bodhi! Go!” Array called, hooking his foot around the Knight’s ankle and sending her crashing to the ground again. “I can handle this.”

Bodhi felt his gorge rise at the thought of leaving Array behind, but if he didn’t there would be no hope for any of them. The Knight leapt up to run along the railing, heading for the panopticon. She must have discerned what they were going to do. Before he could react Array said, “I’m about to do something stupid.” 

Bodhi opened his mouth to protest but before he could get a word out Array tackled the Knight and they fell together into the darkness over the side, down countless floors. Bodhi’s hand flew to his mouth to try to keep a horrified yelp in, but he was only partly successful. 

_Array meant to do it. He has the Force. Sort of. He’ll be fine._

He raced towards his goal, his footfalls echoing harshly in his ears. He hit the bottom stair leading up to the panopticon before he realized a compliment of droids were waiting at the top, blocking the door. They looked dormant like the other droids he’d seen here and he took the chance, approaching warily.

He got to the third step before they whirred to life and opened fire.  

* * *

Array fell into blackness, he and the Knight resorting to punching and kicking as they clung to one another, her nails digging unpleasantly into his scales. He writhed free, his mind blank so that the Force could rise and fill him up, such as was possible in this place so toxic to magic. He slowed his descent first, willing physics to bend and reweave itself. He called on his control, such as it was, and managed to land on the gangplank many floors below. With his normal skills he could have landed feather-light, but as it was he hit the floor hard, his legs collapsing under him and spilling him ingloriously to the grating. He hit his bad arm with all his weight, a rude pinch of nerve pain leaping towards his neck and down his thigh. 

He grabbed his lightsaber as it clattered down next to him with the hand that wasn’t a cramped up mess, activating it again and watching the Knight through the glow thrown by his blade. She’d performed a similar trick, landing across from him so that the abyss yawned between them. Stars, how many floors did this wretched place have? 

A frisson of dread chilled him as he stood, his natural heat draining away. It wasn’t about the Knight, looking at him and twirling her gold saber, smirking with it scintillating in the air purple, blue, silver. It was as if the closer he got to the bottom floor, the worse he felt. The less Force he could call upon. Something in the depths had latched onto him like a lamprey, greedily sucking down the power within him until he felt withered and weak. 

At least she wasn’t immune; it took only a moment before she'd bent over the railing as if she were about to vomit, clinging to it with her free hand and panting. 

“What in the kriff is that?” He shouted. “Hey, — “

“Raqkat,” she muttered, her hair in her face and her eyes squeezed shut as if warding against nausea. The rendering of her name sounded exactly how he felt: colorless. Her madness had cooled too, eaten perhaps by the thing in the depths. If he could sense anything about the entity dwelling below, it was ravenous, never-ending hunger. 

“I’m Array,” he offered, since neither of them appeared in a hurry to battle the other. A realization froze him all the more and he blurted: “are you here to free… _that?”_

* * *

Bodhi made it up two more steps before the droids could reload. He was faintly aware of blood seeping into the fabric of his left pant leg, the ragged hole in his jacket and shirt where a shot had skimmed his ribs. His brain, though slow to catch up, supplied him with:

_Buckshot?_

Of course. They were old droids, probably reactivated by the Knight. They wouldn’t have had lasers back then when they’d first been commissioned. Dimly, he wondered if they were prototypes. Stilleto maybe? S-Ep1? He hobbled to the door, almost there when he heard a gun re-rack. He turned on instinct, and the next round of buckshot hit him in the chest. 

He fell back hard, and the door opened under his weight. He grunted as he hit the floor, his lungs burning, the graze on his side flaring up into a searing line of fire like that left behind by an X-Wing’s attack run. Blearily, he thought of the way Scarif’s beach had lit up once the explosives had been detonated at Cassian’s order. 

He dragged himself forward a little, straining to reach the door’s mag lock. At the last second he slapped the button, and the door became impassable as it clicked into place. The droids watched him, their flying saucer heads turning this way and that as their ancient programming tried to deal with the situation now quickly emerging. 

For a long moment, he couldn’t move. Even with the droids trying to bash the door in, it wasn’t enough to get him up and moving. Stars, was he dying? His clothes felt warm and wet with blood, and every breath was a study in torture that scraped his nerves raw. They hadn’t got him in the heart, at least, or he would have died instantly. That said, he heard an alarming whistle from his right lung. 

_Maybe there’s still time. Something useful I could find out. For Array._

By the tips of his fingers he dragged himself further into the room. A whole bank of screens took up the main wall, with a huge, elaborate console below them. Security, obviously, and maybe something more. Thank the stars a chair was still in place, as if the operator had gotten up for a break only moments before. He dragged himself into it, a couple of ragged, barely-there cries leaping from his throat as he sat upright. 

He put his hands on the console and only then realized they were dripping blood. 

_What in all the hells did the Knight come here to find? Even if…I can leave that information behind._

It took him awhile, maybe longer than he really had to spare when things came down to it. A couple of times he had to forcibly lift his head; the urge to slip into sleep - or more likely a coma - was so compelling, so _easy_. He shuddered at how powerful the temptation was. 

He hacked the console’s security clearance, careful to put his fingers deliberately on each key and button so he wouldn’t slip and come up with the wrong intel. Luckily it wasn’t beyond his capabilities, even half dead; maybe the people who had used the Tomb had figured no one would really want to visit, let alone ransack their data archives. The place had been more myth than reality for centuries.  

A prisoner manifest proved no trouble, either. Resolutely he flipped through the many files, information that he would have loved to indulge in learning under less desperate circumstances. Everyone imprisoned here had some kind of grand crime, power, or story attached to them, each one unique and more insane sounding than the last. 

_Cell B-22. Specials Block. Class 5 forcefield._

Other technical details followed, not so different from the other files. But this one, something about it made his muzzy, mired brain tick over. He tore a strip from his shirt, taking a few precious moments to bind his leg as best he could when his midsection was full of burning metal. 

His eyes never left the report.

_Origin: unknown. Species: unknown._

Underneath the official details, someone had typed a note, one that swam in and out of focus as he tried to read it:

_I don’t know what the kriff to call this thing or how to enter it properly into the computer. What do you call a…a construct of pure nothingness? A writhing shadow in a suit of impenetrable armor no one can identify? I’m starting to think it came from somewhere inter-dimensional._

Bodhi pressed his hand tight against his mouth, trying to keep back a whine of utter despair. How in the world were they supposed to fight _that?_

Had someone let it out of its cage already? 

He had some sort of intention to go find Array and tell him before the void personified could kill his best friend, but instead of getting to his feet he slid bonelessly from his seat and passed out. 

* * *

“Those are my orders!” Raqkat shouted, an odd defiance on her features, the kind that made her look young indeed. Her yellow eyes blazed against her dark skin, casting her in a series of menacing shadows. 

“ _Think_ for a second!” Array shouted right back, gesticulating with his lightsaber. “Do you think whatever the hells that is won’t _eat you alive?_ Maybe that’s the point. Do you want to be expendable?” 

She bared her teeth at him and he felt his instincts prod him to do the same in return, to start circling her and looking for weaknesses as if they were two bucks about to lock antlers. He ground his teeth and stayed put. He couldn’t afford a fight with her. 

“I…”

She started, and whatever else she might have said was utterly lost as Bodhi’s pain burst across his mind like a corona of punishing light. He would have screamed if he could have found the breath to do so, but he would have sworn to all the gods and spirits that he _couldn’t breathe. Stars, he couldn’t breathe._

He shot back up the stairs, Raqkat, the Force, even the horror of whatever lived in the depths of the prison forgotten. He pushed himself harder than he should, his physical prowess almost as bad off as his Force energy. Yet, he’d felt Bodhi’s suffering so clearly, as if there weren’t some eldritch monster literally eating his magic right out from under him. Wildly he wondered if he’d managed a Force bond somewhere in the last decade or so; it was one of the only things that would have worked, would have given him Bodhi’s sensations even through the deadening properties that had oozed all over the place like radiation. 

He knew exactly where to look, and took the steps to the top floor three at a time as if he hadn’t just ran full tilt up several stories. He rushed the panopticon, his hunter’s vision rendering the droids in harsh yellow and red. They raised their weapons, but he barreled in roaring regardless. Buckshot managed to bury itself an inch or so under his scales in a couple of places, but he was much more naturally armored than a defenseless human and the annoyance only spurred him on. 

A burst of rage gave him energy where the Force normally would have, and he cleaved the droid’s heads free from their bodies in two precise moves. He felt a stab of frustration when he couldn’t get in through the mag-lock. He wanted to kick it until it gave, but he made himself drop to his knees and start slicing it instead, taking his tools from the pocket of his coat and sticking them in his mouth so he could reach for them without having to pause.

* * *

_“Bodhi.” He heard his own name as if it had come to him through a great body of water, distorted, echoing. Who was calling him? His mother? His sister? “Bodhi, love. Kriff kriff kriff…please…”_

_Energy licked over his body like a grenade mid-burst. He couldn’t scream, he had no breath to scream with. Somewhere in his addled mind he recognized the Force, but this desperate. feral thing felt nothing like the grey soothing magic he’d become used to at Array’s side. It was cleansing fire, the worst pain he’d ever felt, but gods…a moment later and he drew a full breath._

When he came to Array was beside him, so utterly and completely out that the recurrent fear of finding Array dead punched him in the chest worse than the buckshot had. Bodhi would have liked to say something to him, anything, but his words were still wound up on his tongue like bailing wire and his mouth was as dry as a Jedha sand dune. 

But he could _breathe._ He didn’t feel blood seeping into his clothes anymore, either. 

“What did you do?” He finally managed. Array stirred, though it was hardly noticeable. He put his hand on Array’s shoulder. “Can you hear me?”

“Mm,” Array managed, though he was clearly so utterly exhausted he couldn’t even twitch his tail. 

“You healed me.”

“Mhm,” Array said this time. 

“How? I thought you were having trouble with the Force.” 

Bodhi’s hands slowly roved over his own body, still shocked that every single one of his wounds had spit lead and then healed over. 

“Wasn’t the Force. I mean…” Array fell silent for such a long moment that Bodhi thought he’d passed out again. But then he added, “not the kind from outside…outside me.” 

Bodhi folded his arms, a certain cold dread making him furious, for a moment, at how little sense of self-preservation Array had. 

“What?”

Array levered himself up on his forearms, panting with the effort. His spines were limp, and his eyes were still wet with tears. Bodhi’s fury downgraded to annoyance, seeing him in such a sorry state. It was how he’d been after that first fight with the Knight of Ren, except exponentially worse. 

“Was…personal. Personal energy.”

Bodhi heard himself shout: “do you mean the Force inside you? The kind that makes your _kriffing hearts_ beat? The kind that _keeps you alive?”_

All living things had it, a little rivulet of the Force tracking through them similar to how a map was defined by its bodies of water. 

“Err…” Array tried, finally managing to sit up, though dizziness almost put him right back down on the floor again. “Maybe?” 

To Array’s credit, he sat still and quiet while Bodhi flung every expression of fury at him that Bodhi could think of. Though Array did cock a sardonic eyebrow-ridge once the reckless use of breath caught up to Bodhi and left him coughing helplessly in its wake. 

“ _You_ would have died,” Array said flatly. “Don’t argue with me about what I did. It’s never going to change.” 

The words were hard and final, in a way Array’s words usually weren’t. Bodhi felt panic rising up to clog his throat.

“Arra, no. Not for me. I’m not…” 

“Worth it?” Array said, staring at him. He felt skewered by that look; it wasn’t often Array turned the full force of it on him. “Don’t you _dare._ ”  

Bodhi looked at Array’s face, saw his implacable expression and his eyes, burning gold. 

Bodhi shut his mouth instead of protesting again. 

“I will always give everything I have for you. If you think otherwise, you have seriously misunderstood the nature of our, uh. Friendship.” Array said, grinding his teeth and trying to keep back a growl. “If you can’t accept that, then…”

For a moment all Bodhi could do was stare back, astonished. The words weren’t insulting - they didn’t imply he couldn’t do anything on his own. They weren’t cruel - they didn’t insult or demean. They weren’t even angry, for a certain value of angry. But they _were_ steely, and far more direct than Array usually was. 

“No no,” Bodhi said, since the only thing worse than Array giving him far more than he really deserved was Array walking away for good. “I understand,” He added, even though he really didn’t. Why he was worth all that, why Array valued his life so.

“The world outside of our sanctuary is in upheaval,” Array said, quieter, more gentle. “And there’s no way we get to turn back now. So…indulge me.” 

For not the first time, Bodhi wished he had the Force too - or at least more of it - if only so he could return all the favors in kind. But maybe, maybe he could at least…he turned back to the console. 

“Does it occur to you that if you died…” Bodhi said, the lump in his throat halting his words, his eyes stinging. “Where do you think I would go? Who do you think I would spend my life with?” He cringed at how outright _romantic_ that sounded, but It made him feel utterly bereft to think of roaming the galaxy alone again. 

_No, I couldn’t do that to him. Admit...Too dangerous._

He gulped, the thoughts and feelings making it hard to breathe for an entirely different reason than earlier. 

_Jon would find out._

A second, more insidious voice:  _he'd get tired of you._

Then what Array had said to him _really_ hit despite his attempts to ignore it, and all he could do was act like an idiot and blurt: “you…you said…”

“Look at the console, Bodhi,” Array said hurriedly, gruff, voice suspiciously thick with emotion, “last I saw her, she was down several fights. She might have found what she’s looking for.”

“She’s trying to get in,” he gasped, fingers already flying over the controls. Warnings had gone off across several panels, iridescent in a way designed to be perceived by several different species. He muted the audio before it could blast both of them right out of their senses.  

“Shit,” Array said, holding his hand to his forehead as if he were worried his brain might fall out if he didn’t. “I’m going to have to go back down there.”

“You’ll get killed,” Bodhi snarled, trying to keep her from slicing the door as best he could from the console. Subroutines flashed across his vision as the built in defenses tried to rouse themselves after such a long period of disuse. One of Bodhi’s suspicions was verified as the floor outside the cell electrified. 

“Got any stims in that medic’s bag of yours?” Array said, propping himself up against the wall in an effort, Bodhi thought, to stay conscious. Bodhi shrugged the bag off as he fought for control of the door, and Array took it with one shaking claw. He heard the puff of air that signified a syringe being cleared, and then a little moan of relief when the drugs hit Array’s system. 

He put up a good fight but the Knight had come with greater ability to slice than he had to stop it. He swore and banged his hands on the console, furious all over again that he couldn’t be any help. 

The next moment took all thoughts from his head as a completely impenetrable blackness descended over the prison. 

“Gods,”  Array whispered, “she let it out.” 


	12. Clandestine

Jess found herself on the other side of her cell door one morning. She had no idea how long she'd spent s a prisoner but It had felt like three eternities trapped in there, knowing any number of hidden cameras were laser-focused on her every move and word. She’d played her part to the hilt, wandering aimlessly about her tiny space, collapsing to her thin mattress and weeping into the hospital-sterile, envelope-thin pillow they’d afforded her.

Zizi hadn’t come by again. Jess understood; she couldn’t afford the energy and subtlety it had taken to slip past security a second time. But damn, the hours dragged by and she had to admit she was damned lonely. She almost welcomed the sound of booted footsteps in the corridor.

“Tarakat Medlow,” the officer said as he paused outside her cell, checking something off on his datapad. “You’ve been assigned sanitation duty.”

At least this guard wasn’t a stormtrooper. She found their helmeted faces disturbing, to say the least. This man was non-descript even with a bare head, though, wearing a black uniform with gold and red bars that marked him an officer assigned to the brig.

He might not be in stormtrooper armor, but…same result. Her trigger hand twitched, just a little.

“S..sanitation?” She repeated, clutching at the folds of her dress.

“Is that a problem?” He asked, fixing her with a look that told her she’d better act grateful, the sooner the better.

“No, of course not.” She said, blinking owlishly as if she could hardly process the notion of being anything but fawning towards the First Order and its adherents. “Of course I will do my best, sir.”

If she hadn’t been so deeply in character having to call a First Order officer sir would have grated, at best. As it was it tasted like ashes, but she said it smoothly nonetheless,, as if it were a mouthful of her mother’s bread fresh from the oven.

“Step back,” the guard said, and she obeyed. He punched an elaborate code into the keypad near the door, and the forcefield powered down. She waited for his say so to come out, and he lead her out through the brig and then up to the main floor. Again, she glanced around, not needing to fake her reaction. The regimented nature of every little detail made her feel like her stomach was full of kudzu vines.

She found herself standing in what amounted to a janitor’s closet, the other cleaners inside grabbing supplies immediately jumping to attention when the officer walked in.

“At ease,” he said, but of course no one allowed themselves to be truly at ease. “This is Tarakat Medlow, a refugee from the planet below. Show her the basics of sanitation duty and see that she learns.”

The two glanced at one another, then back at the officer, nodding. Thankfully, he took his leave, apparently satisfied, and Jess could size up her new teachers.

One looked like a standard human male, the other female. They had willowy bodies, golden skin, and black hair. Siblings then? Twins? They were both wearing disposable coveralls. They hadn’t put on their masks and gloves yet, but Jess could see the items sitting on the little table behind them.

“I’m Jasper,” the man said, though he said it in such a tone that she realized he didn’t assign any particular ownership to the name.

“I’m Katamira,” the woman said, and Jess made a note to try and bond with her later over the similarities in their names. “Get your coveralls on and gather your supplies. Jasper will walk you through what you need.”

* * *

Zizi came up behind her as she was scrubbing the floor in the mess, working a toothbrush into each individual tile until it gleamed. At first such busy work had annoyed her, but after awhile it became meditative, her mind going blank.

“That is how they brainwash you, you know,” Zizi said, and if it weren’t for her will and commitment to her cover story she would have shot to her feet in surprise.

“Stars alive, Zizi,” she muttered, not looking up from her task. “Scared the shit out of me.”

“Admittedly it’s not the best form of communication,” Zizi conceded, her voice echoing slightly; Jess wondered if she’d hidden herself in the Force somehow, more completely than before. “I’ve found a dead zone, in the supply closet closest to here, around the corner. There is a camera on the door, but I can scramble it long enough for us to get inside.”

And she was gone again, perhaps into whatever pocket in the Force she’d managed to stitch together. Watching Zizi, though, she thought perhaps it was a series of elaborate illusions; her form rippled and faded in and out.

Jess rose, not having to feign her sore back or her protesting muscles. She stretched, and looked around the rest of the room. She’d moved all the tables to the side in neat rows; everything here had to be neat at all times. Ordered. Predictable. She’d gotten through about half the floor, and she peered into her wash bucket and pursed her lips as if to sigh in resignation.

Nothing for it but to get more supplies. Right? Of course.

She picked up the bucket and added the dirty rags to what was left of the soapy water inside. She went for the supply closet in question, opening the door and stepping into darkness. She could see Zizi lurking at the far end, though her form still had an indistinct shimmer. She put the mop bucket down, all she could manage before Zizi crossed the distance and pressed a hungry kiss to her mouth, the kind that made her reciprocate before her brain could even catch up.

“Oh, Zizi,” was all she could say when they parted, her fingers touching her own lips as if she could hardly believe the force, the power one kiss had over her.

“I missed you,” Zizi said. As her sight adjusted she could make out the edges of Zizi’s white hair, and Zizi’s white eyes blazed against the dark backdrop of the room. “I admit, this plan is….difficult to adhere to.”

“I know, but we can’t take on a full compliment of First Order lackeys head on.” Jess pointed out. “To be honest, I haven’t really thought about how to do it subtly either.”

“I do have one thought,” Zizi said. Zizi was still holding her, and she leaned her head on Zizi’s shoulder. “You realize propaganda plays a huge role in keeping the troops quiesencet?”

“I’ve thought about it. You know, how they’d spin something like blowing up the Death Star. Some of us know we have to kill a lot of people in order to put down the First Order, we accept the cost. But to others….well. It would be easy to paint the whole thing as an atrocity. Even with what they did to NiJedha and Alderaan. All the fault of the Rebellion.”

“Indeed,” Zizi agreed, reaching up to stroke her hair. Jess almost felt like purring the way Array did when he was pleased. “I was in the mess earlier myself. Every meal, they blast a propaganda recording. It’s designed to keep them controlled, and it works. Everything here is engineered to make that possible.”

“Gods,” Jess said faintly. “How the hell did Finn ever make it out of a place like this?”

She felt anger the way she had back on the ship, when they were trying to hide from the very destroyer she and Zizi were now on. Only the knowledge that she would kriff everything up if she gave into it made her stay put, though she stiffened up in Zizi’s arms.

“I could not say, but I am very glad he did. And certainly he’s not the only one who would desert, if they saw a way to flee this prison.”

“So what do we start with? Are you suggesting we replace the propaganda with our own? Show em what really happened?”

“It’s not a bad first step,” Zizi agreed.

“If I can get to a console I might be able to get some footage that would work,” she allowed, though she felt skeptical as to whether her skills could manage something like that. Still, no other way to go. Maybe she could lift a security clearance chip off a passing officer or something. "Might be able to get a message out too."

Zawati stepped back, clearly reluctant to do so. “Time grows short. Leave before questions are asked.”

Jess hurried to refill the bucket and to grab clean rags, leaving the dirty ones in the hamper. As she turned to go, Zizi said:

“May the Force be with you…my raven,” she added, in a voice like the backroom in a very expensive brothel. Jess’ breath caught and her body went tight and warm, but before she could respond - verbally or otherwise - Zizi had gone.


End file.
